Gems for Jethro Series Part 1: My Precious Jewel
by OrangePlasticGummyBear
Summary: Gibbs meets a strange woman and feelings he's buried deep inside are awakened. What does the team think when they see him with her? Spoilers for Spider and the Fly. *Warning* Could be construed as minor mature themes at points, love scenes
1. Flip Flops & A Can of Worms

**Author's note: I understand that popular characters being paired with original characters is not something that is often received well, but I hope you will read this through and give my writing a chance. This woman is no overinflated superwoman, she's flawed and has issues, and I think you'll find yourself actually liking her. Gibbs really is the focus of this piece though, not the OFC, the story IS Gibbs, as well as the rest of the NCIS family. If you like Jackson Gibbs then you'll enjoy this, he plays quite a role in a significant part of this too. I happen to love the character of Jack and wanted to have fun with him too. The father/son dynamic is fun to play with between Jack and Jethro.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the NCIS characters or any of the episode story lines I mention through this story, they all belong to Donald P. Bellasario, I just got writer's block on my own current novel and decided to borrow his characters for a while and have fun with them. I make no money off the usage of any NCIS characters or ideas. ****I do, however, own all my original characters in this story as well as the fictional 'TCIU'. ****I do not own the lyrics quoted to James Blunt's "Same Mistake", Frank Sinatra's "Fly Me To the Moon (In Other Words)", or Tony Bennett's "The Way You Look Tonight" and do not profit off the use of these lyrics. I also do not own the rights to any trademarks or brand names within the story such as Ford Explorer or Bed, Bath, and Beyond.  
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**Review Request: While I greatly appreciate you simply taking the time to just read my writing and it thrills me to no end to see so many hits on my story, it would make my day to receive feedback and reviews from readers to know how you think I'm doing. Just because I've been writing for many years doesn't mean I don't like to hear that someone enjoys what I write. **

**This is my first fan fiction EVER and I enjoyed it enough to be almost finished with the second story in this series. Please give me feedback and let me know if you are interested in me continuing this series when you are finished reading this story!**

**Thank you so much for reading!  
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Chapter 1

"Come on, Dad. It's just another six-pack of beer. Damn it, does everything have to be an argument with you?"

The elder man leaned in on his cane, a deepening crease of concern crossing his brow. "I'm just sayin' you've got a lot on your mind, son, maybe you shouldn't be drinking quite so much right now."

Special Agent Gibbs shoved the grocery cart hard around the corner of the crowded supermarket, glancing back at his father with a frustrated huff and immediately heard a woman's piercing scream directly in front of him. Before he could turn to see what had just happened he caught the horrified look in the pools of Jackson's blue eyes and knew it wasn't good.

A crowd of onlookers gathered around the woman lying on the floor, several pointing at her foot, tangled under the wheel of Jethro's cart bleeding profusely. He slowly lifted it off her foot, unprotected by her flip-flops, trying not to hurt her further, but her muffled cries alerted him that wasn't happening.

He assessed the situation quickly and moved in to kneel beside the woman. Glancing around at the crowd he commanded, "Move back. Federal agent. I've got this under control. Go on about your business." His stern, reproachful look did the trick for the majority of them and they began to disperse. "Miss, does anything hurt besides your foot?" A twinge of guilt hit him as he realized she was youthful and attractive. _Not that it should matter what kind of person you just plowed over with a grocery cart, you ass._

"Leroy, what have you done? I think she's hit her head. Look at the poor girl." His father's voice nagged behind him above his shoulder.

Her hand was holding the back of her head and she looked sickly pale in the face. "I hit my head on the floor when I fell." She mumbled, barely coherent. "I don't feel so well. I think I'm gonna throw up."

Just as a store manager came running over to the scene of the incident, she rolled over to her side and vomited onto the floor. Gibbs, feeling even more guilty, pulled her long hair back out of her face and held it out of her way, trying to help the best he could.

"I'm Nolan, the General Manager. What's happened here? Should I call 911? Her foot looks to be in bad shape. I think we need to make up an incident report." He was obviously flustered and unsure how to handle the situation.

The woman pulled herself up to a sitting position with a little aid from Gibbs and spoke. "I don't want 911. I probably just need some stitches, maybe a CT of my head for good measure. I can probably drive myself to the hospital." She swayed slightly as she sat.

"I don't think you'll be driving yourself anywhere." Gibbs stated matter-of-factly. "I'll take you to the hospital. I can drive you in your car, and my dad can take my car home." He turned to Jackson. "Can you finish getting what we need and go straight home? I'll have agents meet you at the house."

It had only been three weeks since Paloma Reynosa had shown up at Jackson's General Store in Stillwater, PA in an attempt to kill him in her vendetta against the younger Gibbs. She was out for blood and would stop at nothing until that desire was satisfied. Until she could be found and brought to justice, Jackson was in D.C. under the protection of Jethro and other NCIS agents round the clock.

Jackson nodded. He didn't care for the idea of being kept under lock and key for an undetermined amount of time. Both Gibbs men turned to the woman who simply mouthed the word "fine" without truly speaking to either of them. Gibbs stood up, taking a few steps away for privacy and made a quick phone call.

Rejoining them, Gibbs explained, "Agents will actually meet you here at the store to follow you home in ten minutes. You should have plenty of time to get whatever we need." He pulled out his wallet, reached in for several bills, and handed them to his dad. "That should more than cover it."

Gibbs turned to the woman again and took in the sad sight of what he had done to her. Her right foot was still bleeding, not as badly as before, but it wasn't pretty to look at. The flip-flop was damaged beyond repair. _Nonsense footwear if you ask me anyway. _Her hair was disheveled, her face pale. She had managed not to vomit on her denim shorts or purple top though.

"Do you think you can walk?" He asked, softening his voice to the honey on steel tone he usually reserved for sweet-talking Abby. The woman looked up at him with surprise in her eyes, and for the first time he realized what depths of shimmering green gemstones her eyes were. His breath caught somewhere in his throat as he lost all train of thought in those eyes for a moment that seemed like a lifetime.

"I might be able to, but I need some help up." She responded feebly.

Gibbs snapped out of her gaze and began breathing again. "Yeah. Let me help you." He reached down, carefully wrapping one strong arm around her waist and taking one of her small, soft hands into one of his large calloused ones. Gently, as if she were a fragile doll, he lifted her to her feet. She leaned into him heavily, keeping her weight off the injured right foot, her hair brushing against his face. Breathing in deeply, he could discern the lavender scent of her shampoo and closed his eyes for just a second trying to remember the last time he had a woman in his arms. _It has been too long. This is all wrong though. I don't want it to be like this. I want her to want me. I want her to want to be in my arms. _

She suddenly sagged in his arms, too weak to stand on her own. NCIS trained him in Basic First Aid and CPR. He was well aware of the signs of head trauma. She had obviously hit her head harder than either of them had realized. There was no way she was walking out of this store under her own power. He deftly reached an arm under her legs and scooped her into his arms, holding her protectively against his chest.

Looking down at floor, Gibbs spotted her basket and purse. "Nolan, grab her purse, see if you can find her keys in there and hand it to me." Nolan did as he was asked, handed Gibbs a set of keys and the black purse.

Out in the parking lot, Gibbs randomly pointed the key fob at vehicles clicking the unlock button, waiting for the flash of lights, or some sign of response to indicate which one belonged to the strange woman. She was all but completely unconscious and no help in this matter. Finally, beeping and flashing led him to a late model black Ford Explorer, maybe only a couple of years old.

He carefully deposited her into the passenger seat and buckled her in as she incoherently mumbled something to him. She weakly reached up and held his upper arm, pulling him closer. Looking at her face, he could see tears streaming down her cheeks. "It hurts. Please, don't leave me."

His tough Marine bravado wavered at her plea. _Oh, God. Not now. Don't let her need me now._ Jethro leaned his head in, bringing his lips inches from her ear. "I'm not going anywhere. Everything will be all right. I promise." He fought the urge to gently kiss her cheek before tearing himself away and shutting the door.

The hospital wasn't far, and Jethro knew the route well. His focus was more on the woman next to him than on the road ahead of him. It occurred to him that he still didn't even know her name. _If she isn't more conscious when we reach the ER I'm going to have to search her purse for identification._ He didn't want to invade her privacy, but there was little choice in the matter given the situation.

Jethro's eyes wandered over to her again, taking in the features of her face, turned towards him, eyes closed. She looked young, probably late twenties, maybe thirty. Her clothes gave away no age; simple flip-flops, very short denim shorts showing off long slender legs, a form fitting deep purple camisole style tank top stretched tightly across her ample breasts. _Stop thinking down that road. You're gonna get yourself into trouble. She's too young to want any part of the likes of you. No wedding ring though._

Arriving at the hospital entrance to the emergency department, Gibbs grabbed her purse as he lifted the young woman gently from the seat, kicking the car door closed behind them. They were met by an orderly with a wheelchair who had been outside on a smoke break when he spotted the silver haired man retrieving the woman from the SUV.

Gibbs set her down into the chair, flashed his NCIS credentials, and instructed the orderly to take her straight back to be treated. As soon as the young man turned away, Gibbs opened up the woman's purse and immediately found more than he expected, quite possibly more than he bargained for.

She was in possession of a handgun, not just any handgun, but a government issued handgun, much like Gibbs' own. He delved deeper into her purse and found more. FBI credentials, Pentagon security clearance card, D.O.D. identification card, they were all there. _Supervisory Special Agent Emerald Jade West. Just your luck, Jethro, you've assaulted a fellow federal agent. Vance is going to love this can of worms you just opened for him to clean up._

He'd already learned enough to know he was up a creek this time, might as well go all out and find out what he was really curious about. He dug in and found her wallet, snapped it open and took at a look at her driver's license, looking at the date of birth. _Whoa. That can't be right. I would have bet a week's wages she was under thirty._ The date was clear as day, 01-30-73. She was thirty-seven. Gibbs cracked an impish grin. _If she doesn't completely hate you after this, well, there's hope for something else after all._

The registration desk was clear of any line, leaving Gibbs to saunter up to the pleasantly plump woman sitting behind the desk. Her name badge read "Becky" and she was most definitely blonde from a box and had penciled in eyebrows. He smiled widely, his baby blue eyes flashing brightly in the light, perfectly accenting his silver hair with the hints of his former darker color. Becky blushed. "How can I help you this evening, sir?"

With his velvety voice, Gibbs responded. "Becky, I'm sure there are a multitude of ways you can help me, sweetheart. I'm Special Agent Jethro Gibbs with NCIS. You can call me Jethro." He flashed his credentials along with his best lady-killing smile. "I brought a woman in here just a few moments ago, an Emerald West, for treatment of an injury to her foot and a head trauma. I need to get her registered if she's not been here before and have the bill sent to me."

Becky continued blushing as Jethro's eyes never left her face, but she turned to the computer screen and began typing nervously. "I can tell you, Jethro, she's been here many times before. I've worked here for over twenty years, and I know Em. She's a sweet young woman. Been through hell and back though that one has. I tell you, it's just not fair what life has put her through."

Gibbs considered this information for a moment before formulating a line of subtle questioning. "Does she have an emergency contact we should call, Becky? She was in and out of consciousness since the incident, and I haven't been able to ask her anything significant."

"No, I'm afraid not." The forlorn look on Becky's face told him there was a story behind her answer, and it was going to be the painful kind. "Emerald used to have the sweetest husband, Ben. Aw, he was a great guy, loved her so much. It was such a terrible thing what they went through when they lost their baby." Becky trailed off for a moment. "I guess that's been about twelve years ago. It was such a pity. They were here all the time for the prenatal care and all. Baby was a girl, Delilah they named her. She was premature, born with a heart defect. Doctors did everything they could, surgery and all, but she only lived about five days. Ben and Emerald were devastated. I always thought Em would have been worse off it hadn't been for how strong he had been for her. Then of course, you know 9/11 happened and her whole world just fell apart when he was killed in the Pentagon. She's never been the same since." The registration clerk tapped a few keys on the keyboard before she spoke again. "She's been in here several times for work related injuries. I suppose being a federal agent isn't the safest occupation." She smiled sweetly at Jethro whose head was still spinning from all the information she had already shared. "I've overheard her coworkers say she just needs a good man in her life since losing Ben. Apparently, she hasn't even dated since his death. You wouldn't happen to know any good men who could take care of a sweet woman like that, would you now, Jethro?"

Gibbs didn't feel like keeping up the charade with Becky anymore. He felt the need to be in the back with Emerald, be at her side. He had promised her he wouldn't leave her alone. "Becky, you're right, I should probably be back there caring for her right now." He pulled a business card out of his pocket along with a pen, quickly writing down his home address and phone number on the back. "Here's all my information. Please send me the bill for her care tonight. The whole incident was my fault, and I should take care of it for her. Can you let me back there now?"

Becky smiled politely. "Of course. Walk around to the door there, I'll buzz you in."

Gibbs' feet couldn't get him to the door fast enough. The door couldn't open fast enough. His eyes searched the emergency department for her face among the crowd, but he couldn't see her. He reached the nurses' station and found a particularly bored looking petite, young Asian nurse in pink scrubs. "Excuse me. I'm looking for Emerald West. Where is she?" The nurse looked over the board and pointed him in the direction of room 19.

He stepped into the room quietly, not wanting to disturb her, but found a doctor and two nurses in the room huddled over Emerald's foot applying stitches to her wound. "Hi, I'm Special Agent Gibbs. I brought Emerald in tonight. How's she doing?" He set her purse down in a chair in the corner as he waited for an answer and slipped out of his sport coat, draping it over the back of the chair as well, and made his way to the head of the bed where she appeared to be sleeping.

The taller of the two nurses spoke. "She's on morphine for the pain. Dr. Adams has ordered a CT of her head to rule out any skull fracture, but she's certainly got a concussion. She was in and out of consciousness as you could tell when you brought her in, she was vomiting, her eyes were unevenly dilated, all classic symptoms of head trauma. She'll need to be observed for 24 hours, either in the hospital or at home. Is there someone who can be with her if she's released?"

Gibbs thought this over. "I can be. I'll take responsibility for her if she's released. I won't let her out of my sight for the next 24 hours. I swear." _It's the least you could do for her. She deserves more._ "What about her foot? How bad is it?"

"Once we got it cleaned up, it wasn't nearly as bad as it looked." The doctor was tying off the final stitch and the shorter nurse was cleaning up. "Still, it took fifteen stitches to close it up. They'll need to stay in for two weeks before she's seen at her family doctor to have them removed. I'll get her foot wrapped up, and she'll be wearing a surgical shoe for the next few weeks while that heals. We'll get her a note for work. She needs to stay off that foot, either off work completely or desk duty. We're all familiar with Emerald around here. No stunts like she's used to pulling." The nurse smiled wryly. "She's quite the bad ass, but I suppose at the end of the day, she keeps us all safer so it pays off."

The doctor finished up and turned to Gibbs. "She's going to be just fine. If you'll be watching her, I'll have no problem releasing her tonight. I just need you to sign paperwork that she's going to be under your supervision, and you understand what to watch for in case she should worsen and needs to return to the hospital." Dr. Adams removed his gloves, washed his hands at the sink by the door, and regarded Gibbs one last time before opening the door. "Someone from radiology will be down to take her for that CT scan just as a precaution before we can let her go. It shouldn't be too much longer."


	2. Bronzed Rubies & Silver

Chapter 2

Gibbs jolted awake in the chair and looked around the room. It was still dark outside. The lamp was still on in the corner of his living room. Everything was just as he had left it. It was hot in the room. Even in his t-shirt and shorts, he felt the perspiration on his face. Then he remembered in part why he was feeling so overheated. He had been dreaming about her.

He glanced over at the slender female form lying on the couch and a low moan escaped at the thought of what that dream had entailed. _You nearly kill her last night, and now you're having sexual fantasies about her. Good job. You're a real winner there, asshole. And a hard on to boot. You truly are a bastard, Jethro._ The mental berating helped to douse his fiery arousal, although not completely.

There was no escaping the fact that she was sexy as hell, even slightly bumped and bruised and with a few stitches thanks to him. His eyes grazed over her figure, and he felt the familiar yearning of desire. Half out of it from the morphine, she was burning up and insisted on sleeping in nothing but her cami top and panties, with no blanket over her, leaving her exposed to his purview.

She lay there on her back with her head on a pillow, waves of silken locks the color of bronzed rubies flowing down towards the floor like a waterfall. Her fair skin was so soft to the touch, even against his roughly calloused hands, it was impossible to miss its delicacy as he had helped her settle onto the couch. Her lips were perfectly plump and richly pink, as if waiting for Prince Charming to come kiss them and wake her from her sleep now.

Her body was a heavenly work of perfection in his eyes. From the shapely legs that seemed to extend forever, to the sleek stomach he could see peeking out from the cami now, to the curvature of her breasts as they rose slightly with each breath she took, nothing escaped his notice. He found himself drawn to the slender length of her neck beckoning him to kiss it with the way it was exposed to him at that moment.

Oh, and those eyes. He couldn't see them as she lay there sleeping, but he closed his own and recalled in detail the shape and color of hers. Wide-set, sparkling, they were like rich gemstones to match her name. _Emerald Jade_. Her eyes were a deep apple green with a hint of blue shimmering in their depths, like the rarest emeralds of the Panjshir Valley in Afghanistan. Those eyes were eyes he could get lost in, eyes he wanted to get lost in and never be found again.

Leaning back into the chair again, he took in the view of her on the couch once more before roughly rubbing at his tired eyes and taking a hard look at his watch. _4:53. Dad will be up soon enough. 5 a.m. every morning like clockwork._ He pulled himself up out of the chair and reached over to the bedding he had neatly laid out across the back of the couch the night before, picking up a lightweight sheet. _Don't want Dad seeing her exposed like this. _His lip curled up slightly at the edge with a wicked thought fleeting across his mind. _I'll save that for myself._ He drank in once more the perfection of her body, a shiver running down his spine as he thought of the dream again and the burn of desire ached within before he carefully laid the sheet over her lightly, covering just enough of her body to keep things appropriate when his father came downstairs.

Turning off the lamp in the corner, he made his way to the small kitchen at the rear of the house, flipping on the light switch. His father had always been an early riser, but it wasn't until his own days in the Marine Corps that Gibbs himself had gained an appreciation for the early hours of the day. Following his usual morning ritual, he started a pot of coffee, good and strong to get him going for the day. He was running on even less sleep than usual after the night's strange events.

Gibbs was just rehashing the night in his mind and shaking his head and the ridiculousness of it all when he thought back over it as he heard Jackson shuffling down the stairs as quietly as he could at his age, trying not to wake the sleeping young woman on the couch.

"Good morning, son. Did you get any sleep last night? How's your lovely patient?" Jackson was his usual cheerful self, always seeming to manage to make the best of any given situation, even having the Reynosa drug cartel beating a path to the Gibbs' doorstep with death in their hearts. Jackson Gibbs was a man wavered by little, if anything, and anyone who knew Jethro Gibbs knew the apple fell not far from that tree.

"Morning, Dad. I slept here and there. I did promise the doctor I'd watch Emerald so I didn't sleep well. Every time I fell asleep, I woke up feeling that something was wrong. She seems fine though, still sleeping off the affects of the morphine I think." He peered off in the distance through the dining room, into the living room at the figure on the couch, motionless except for the steady breathing.

Jackson noticed the worried look on his son's face and could sense the tension hovering around him like a living thing. "Is there something about her you're not telling me, Leroy?"

There were only a few things about his father that really got under his skin; he was the only person in the world who actually called Jethro by his proper first name "Leroy" and secondly was that he read Jethro like an open book and always could.

It was impossible to lie to his dad, and Jethro knew it. "I don't really know what it is about her." He busied himself, reaching into the cabinet for two coffee cups, filling them to the brim with the hot, dark liquid, and carrying them into the dining room where the men could sit and talk quietly, while he gathered his thoughts. "I just have this gut feeling about her. There's something about her, Dad. I'm drawn to her."

The elder Gibbs took a sip of the scalding hot coffee, not seeming to notice the burn as he sat back at considered his son's words. "She's mighty attractive. Seems a bit young for you though."

"She's thirty-seven, Dad. That's not that young. I'm only fifty-one."

"Until September."

"That's still only fifteen years difference. I've been with women like that before." Gibbs regretted saying that as soon as it came out of his mouth.

"You may have, son, but obviously they didn't work out, now did they?"

That one he saw coming right at him and didn't even bother to dodge it. He took a long draw on his coffee then was suddenly keenly aware of motion coming from the living room couch. With barely more than one swift motion, he was up out of his seat and on his knees at her side.

His voice poured out smooth like silk as he nearly purred his words to her. "Are you all right? What hurts? Can I get you anything? Do you remember anything from last night?" He didn't mean to send a barrage of questions at her. "I didn't mean to give you the third degree. You just had me worried all night. I'm Jethro. Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, NCIS. I accidentally ran into you with my cart at the supermarket. Do you remember that? I took you to the hospital. They said you needed to be monitored for 24 hours so I brought you to my home." Gibbs finally shut up and decided he should give her a chance to respond to at least something he had just said or asked.

Emerald weakly sat up on the couch, looking down at her bandaged right foot Jethro had propped carefully atop a pillow. "Yeah. I remember what happened. At least most of it. I don't remember much about the hospital or you. All I remember about you is you held my hair back while I puked on the supermarket floor." She blushed and smiled shyly. "Sorry about that."

His heart skipped a beat at her smile. "It's okay. Under the circumstances, it was totally understandable." Gibbs smiled back at her, warmly, invitingly. "Let's just not make a habit of it."

She laughed lightly, an almost musical sound. "Agreed." Emerald looked around her taking in her surroundings and seemed concerned. "Where's my purse?"

Gibbs reached around the side of the couch nearest her head and produced her purse, setting it carefully on her lap. "Right here. I did have to search for ID on you, but I didn't remove anything."

A smile crossed her lips again as she looked up into his eyes, seemingly searching them intently for something. Her face softened with a near angelic quality as she apparently found in his eyes exactly what she was looking for. "I trust you, Jethro."

His heart leapt into his throat and did a quick back-flip as he searched for the proper response to that statement. "That's a good thing since we'll be spending the whole day together."

Casual, nonchalance seemed the best route to go. It didn't seem like the best time to admit he was deeply drawn to her, craved her the way a man stranded in the Sahara thirsted for water, and had no rhyme or reason to the feelings he had for her so soon after their meeting.

"Hm, only the day…" and trailed off, giving him a sideways glance with those incredible jeweled eyes. She grinned and began digging into her purse, pulling out a hairbrush and some plastic toiletry case. "The essentials to carry everywhere: hairbrush with a ponytail holder, toothbrush, toothpaste, and dental floss. I never leave home without them. Can I use your bathroom to freshen up?"

"Are you sure you feel up to standing and walking?" he asked skeptically.

"I suppose we won't know until we try, now will we?" She set her purse with its remaining contents on the floor, gripping the brush and small case as she pulled back the sheet and moved to the edge of the couch. "Um, Jethro, where are my shorts?"

Gibbs' face turned red as he now realized that she had no memory of insisting that she not wear them last night and how that made him look. "You were hot last night and said you couldn't sleep with them on and made me help you take them off. I swear on my honor as a Marine. I tried to convince you to keep them on. I really did."

She stared at him reproachfully for a moment then said flatly, "Then where are they, Jethro?"

Sheepishly, he reached behind her pillow to the arm of the couch and retrieved the denim shorts. "Do you need a hand getting them back on?" he offered.

"I think I can manage." First setting the brush and case on the coffee table, she struggled to get her bandaged right foot through the leg, pulled them up to her thighs, then went to stand up and nearly fell over.

Gibbs was on his feet, his arms around her holding her steady in a flash. He braced her while she wiggled the rest of the way into her shorts, zipping them and buttoning them. "How are you feeling now?"

"Actually, really dizzy, my head is suddenly pounding, and putting weight on my foot hurts like hell. Sitting was so much easier." Emerald gave Jethro a halfhearted smile and leaned into his broad shoulder as he continued to hold her upright. "Thank you, Jethro. You didn't have to do this for me."

"I did. I do. I was the one who ran you over. It was the least you deserved from me," he admitted. _Don't get too used to this, Jethro. You hold her in your arms now. She lays her head on your shoulder now. You know how this all plays out in the end. You run them all off. She'll hate you. They all do eventually. _"I can help you to the bathroom to clean up. There's a half bath off the kitchen or a full bath upstairs. You choose and I'll get you to either one by whatever means necessary," he said smiling warmly, his face only inches from hers. He could feel her hot breath against the skin of his neck. He fought for control of his body's reactions to her nearness. "There's washcloths and towels upstairs so you could really wash up better."

"That sounds great, but how do you propose I get up there?"

Jethro grinned, reached down to pick up her personal items, and scooped her up into his strong arms. She was surprised by the strength of him. His short cropped silver hair and the fine lines creasing his ruggedly handsome face belied his youthful strength of body. The broad shoulders and chest of this man were accompanied by a significant remaining brute strength of a Marine. He held her closely to his chest, protectively, bringing her face near to his own and she could feel his steady breathing as he climbed the stairs with ease, not faltering once under her added weight.

He was remarkable. She felt a fluttering in her chest and a slight feeling of breathlessness as it dawned on her that she was finding herself attracted to this incredibly sexy older man. Jethro set her down gently on her feet just inside the bathroom, a classic yellow tile room obviously original to the house.

He stepped outside the door for second, while she balanced herself by holding the side of the sink countertop, and returned with a fresh towel and washcloth. "Here you go. There's soap and everything you need there in the shower. They said you can't shower, but you could kind of give yourself a sponge bath so-to-speak. Do you need any help?" He immediately felt like an idiot for offering, knowing she would likely be undressing to clean up, and knowing full well he didn't have that much self-control left in him for the morning.

"I think I'll be fine. I should probably just sit on the edge of the tub and wash up rather than trying to stand on my own. I think I'm just still woozy from the medicine they must have given me at the hospital. You'll be nearby won't you?" She looked at him expectantly.

"Yeah. I'll just be in my room changing clothes myself. I'm sure the morphine they gave you will wear off soon, and you'll be able to stand on your own two feet again without looking like you're drunk." He chuckled and got the laugh out of her he had hoped for. "Just call out if you need anything."

Jethro pulled the door closed to give her privacy and stepped across the hallway to his own room. His eyelids were heavy, and the bed was calling his name. He dared not lie down even for a second or he'd give in to the need for sleep. _More coffee, that's what you need, always more coffee. A mainline intravenous drip would be nice._ Pushing the door closed, he stripped down out of his rumpled t-shirt, shorts, and boxer briefs. He wanted a shower but would wait until Emerald was safely out of his care tonight. For a moment, he regarded himself in the mirror on the closet door. Age had shown itself not just on his head and face but in the graying hair of his chest and the loss of some of his former Marine musculature. His body was riddled with scars from various injuries, both military and in the line of duty as a NCIS agent. _Could a woman so sexy and perfect want the imperfect body of a man like you, Jethro?_

He redressed in a pair of denim carpenter's shorts and a random baseball team t-shirt, then opted for sneakers rather than his typical work boots since he knew his day would not be spent in the basement or even out doing yard work. He had a patient to care for and for once, he felt no irritation with the task of playing nursemaid to the injured. This time, he was reveling in every moment with her.


	3. Pianos & Firearms

Chapter 3

The Gibbs men carried in the plates of breakfast, steaming hot, with a delicious smell wafting in with them, setting all three on the old dining table and took their seats. Jethro sat at the head of the table with Emerald to his left and Jackson to his right. He looked at the two of them. _This just feels right, Jethro. What is it about her?_

"Breakfast smells wonderful, you two. Did you teach your son to cook, Mr. Gibbs?" asked Emerald, making polite conversation.

Jethro's father smiled kindly at the young woman, his eyes lighting up at the opportunity to talk to someone other than his son after so much time locked up in the house together since he arrived in D.C. "Please, call me Jack, dear." He took a sip of his coffee. "I'm afraid Leroy was a stubborn young man. Didn't want to learn much from me after his mom died. He's managed well enough on his own all this time though. Despite my mistakes, he turned out all right." Jack glanced over with pride in his eyes at Jethro who met his gaze only briefly before turning back to his own coffee.

Emerald silently studied the two men for a moment and went on attempting to make conversation. "So how long have you lived here with Jethro?"

Gibbs tensed at the question, not wanting to involve her in the details of the current situation with the Reynosa cartel, but knowing a trained federal agent as herself would likely notice the NCIS agents posted outside his house soon enough. "Dad doesn't live here really. He's sort of visiting, but not by choice." He looked for the right choice of words to explain himself. _You can't tell her you're a murderer. She'd never look at you with an ounce of respect after that. There's no way to explain the truth._ "I crossed paths with the wrong people in Mexico and have a drug cartel on the warpath after me with a vengeance, threatening to kill everyone I care about, starting with my dad." _So you're gonna be a selfish bastard and care about her, putting her at risk too. You can't possibly protect everyone. You're not Superman, Jethro._

Jack saw the tension in Jethro's face and knew his son was struggling with an explanation. "Paloma Reynosa of the Reynosa drug cartel showed up in my store at home, pointed a gun at me, but thought better of shooting me when I pulled out my old Winchester rifle. Didn't stop her from having her goons shoot up my storefront though. Thankfully, I was able to hide in an old storm shelter before they came back in to try to finish me off. After that, Jethro decided I'd be safer here with him and didn't give me much choice. Guess he thinks at my age he can boss me around like he's the father." He gave a slight smile, only half-joking.

She sat quietly for a moment contemplating what could have brought on such a strong response in the drug cartel. Jethro must have really pissed someone off, of that she was quite aware. In her own experience, the Mexican drug cartels would have no reason to come after someone on such a personal level unless Paloma Reynosa had suffered some deeply personal insult at Jethro's hands. She could only guess it was not truly official NCIS business, but they were protecting their own. That she could understand. She'd seen it both at the FBI and the DOD.

They all three sat quietly eating their breakfasts for a few minutes before Jack spoke up. "Could I get you anything else, Emerald? Do you drink coffee? I don't think Leroy even offered you any."

She grinned. "For one, you can just call me Em if you like, Jack. Secondly, I absolutely love coffee. My team always says I just need an IV drip set up at my desk so I don't need to make so many coffee runs." Em winced slightly and reached her hand to the back of her head.

A pang of guilt shot through Gibbs' stomach at the sight of her in pain. "Do you want some pain medicine? I picked up the prescription they gave you at the hospital pharmacy before bringing you home." He stretched an arm out to the ironing board behind him and picked up a prescription bottle sitting there. Reaching across the table to a pair of reading glasses lying on the morning's newspaper, he lifted them to his face and slid them on, reading the label. "Looks like you can have one or two of these Percocets every four to six hours as needed for pain."

"No thanks. Do you have any Tylenol?" Her pain wasn't unbearable, and she knew all too well the drunken-like stupor that narcotic painkillers put her in. She really didn't want to embarrass herself more than necessary in front of Jethro.

Jethro looked a bit skeptical, but replied calmly. "Sure, excuse me for a second. I'll go get it."

"What do you take in your coffee, sweetheart?" called Jack from the kitchen. She had barely even noticed that he had left the table during her exchange with Jethro.

"Just coffee, Jack. I take my coffee with just coffee in it." Despite her increasingly throbbing head, she laughed at her own joke, one she'd used several times at the office. Her team always said her sense of humor took some getting used to.

"You sound like Leroy. He calls it Marine style," Jack was saying as he reentered the room holding a steaming cup of java, placing it carefully in front of her. "He makes it awfully strong too. Hope it's not too much for you."

She blew lightly on it to cool the hot liquid and took a sip. "No, it's perfect. I love strong coffee."

Holding a bottle of Tylenol in his hands, Jethro came walking back in and reseated himself. "How many would you like?"

"Four."

"Four?"

"Yes. Four," she replied, holding out her hand.

He hesitated for second knowing that was double the recommended dosage, but opened the bottle, shook out four pills, and handed them to her anyway. Four Tylenol couldn't possibly be nearly as strong as one Percocet he figured. She tossed the pills in her mouth and took a gulp of her coffee to wash them down before looking up, realizing he was staring at her. Emerald met his gaze unwaveringly, falling into his ocean blue eyes and forgetting her aches and pains while she was in those eyes.

Jack looked at Em and then at Leroy, feeling a bit like a third wheel, recognizing that something was happening between his son and this mysterious younger woman from the supermarket. He hadn't seen Leroy look at a woman like that since his first wife Shannon who had been murdered nearly twenty years earlier along with their daughter Kelly. Like any father, Jack only wanted Jethro to be happy, wanted him to find someone to love and be loved by. He sat back quietly and drank his coffee for the time being, trying not to interrupt their moment.

The intensity of her eyes gazing into his left Gibbs incapable of breathing. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so overwhelmed by a woman. _Shannon. Only Shannon could ever do this to you._ The thought was almost too much for him. _She couldn't be…_ He couldn't let himself finish the thought. It was just too much to comprehend.

Suddenly feeling the need for oxygen and becoming increasingly aware of the presence of his father, Gibbs tried to break free of her eyes. He sat there, no longer feeling like a fifty-one year-old man, but rather like a fifteen year-old boy caught by his father while trying to sneak off for a tryst with a neighborhood girl. Taking in a deep breath, he let a smile cross his lips and found it met by one on her face as well. As if on cue, they both glanced over to Jack and saw him busily finishing his breakfast, pretending he didn't notice anything.

Jack looked up acting like nothing had just transpired. "So, Em, where are you from? Sound like you got a bit of Boston in you. Your parents still live in your hometown?"

Emerald grinned at Jack's nonchalance but dreaded the barrage of questions about her past. "Wow, Jack, you have a keen ear. I grew up in Wellesley, a suburb west of Boston. Unfortunately, my parents are no longer living. They died in a car accident a few months before I graduated from college." She tried not to think about it more than necessary for fear of the tears choking the back of her throat. From the corner of her eye, she could see the look on Jethro's face and could tell he knew more about her than he was letting on. It was a pained expression, but not one of pity so much as a sense of kinship of sorrow.

Jack looked sorry to have asked the question. "I apologize, my dear. I had no idea." He cleared his throat while thinking of perhaps a safer subject to chat about. "So, you're a federal agent like Leroy. FBI? How'd a pretty young thing like you get into such a dangerous field of work?"

With the tightening of her throat relaxing at the change in topics, Emerald pushed the remaining eggs around her plate with her fork and gave a broad smile. "Actually, that's kind of a funny thing to ask. No sad story there." She pushed away the plate in front of her and reached for the coffee mug, taking a deep drink to clear away the last of the clenching feeling in her throat. "I actually was torn between two extremely different career interests. On one hand, I been taking classical music lessons since I was three, and by the time I graduated high school was exceptional with the piano, flute, and clarinet. I had won many state and national competitions playing each of those instruments. Everyone told me I was good enough to play professionally. Encouraged by my music instructor, I applied and was accepted to Julliard."

Gibbs tried to picture Emerald sitting behind a piano gracefully playing some complicated composition. She seemed so delicate and refined. It seemed a better fit than the "bad ass" fed the nurse at the hospital portrayed her to be.

"Anyway, the other side of the story was my tomboy side. Encouraged by my father, I had been training in martial arts since I was six. He had taken me hunting from the time I could hold a gun and aim it. I was raised spending time with my father and grandfather at our family hunting cabin in the Catskills using various firearms and was quite proficient with them all. On top of that, I was always detail-oriented, a whiz with puzzles, had a knack for languages, and could innately read people. My guidance counselor and many of those career aptitude tests you take in high school suggested I would be a natural applying my skills in the areas of law enforcement or psychology. The idea of combining those fields into a career in the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit appealed to me. Following that interest, I applied to Harvard as well and was accepted there."

The picture was becoming clearer now to Gibbs with this new information, allowing him to better imagine her as the federal agent she actually was sitting here in front of him rather than the classical pianist it seemed she should be.

"So, that's what you do? This behavioral thing you said," Jack asked for clarification.

"Well, that was the idea." She sighed for a second and briefly stared out the window as a NCIS agent strolled by patrolling the property. "I applied to the FBI just before graduation and was notified immediately they were interested in me. However, they weren't looking to fill a slot in the BAU. With my linguistics background, I speak ten foreign languages, and forensic science minor in college in addition to my psychology major, they felt I would be a better fit in an investigative position, particularly counterterrorism." Emerald clenched her jaw and ground her teeth together absentmindedly, thinking back, then took a gulp of her now lukewarm coffee before continuing. "Of course, this was before the whole country saw the importance in counterterrorism, and we were severely understaffed and underfunded. It's no wonder we couldn't do our jobs effectively enough."

Jethro remembered what the kindly registration clerk at the hospital had told him and felt the urge to pull Emerald into his arms, to tell her everything would be okay. Of course she could find a million places where the system went wrong. The system failed her. The system allowed terrorists to rain airplanes down, crashing one into the Pentagon, killing her beloved husband. He knew all too well how it felt to lose the person you were in love with and thought you'd be with the rest of your life.

Seeing she was obviously struggling to find words for the moment, Jack began to speak again, but Emerald's voice broke through, and she continued. "After 9/11, things changed. I had been working with a counterterrorism team based out of Quantico. About a year after the attacks, I was called into a meeting with the Director of the FBI and the Secretary of Defense themselves. It seems my work had caught the attention of the highest levels, leading me to be sought out for a special position the Sec Def was starting up at the DOD. That's when I was offered my current position. I still hold FBI credentials, but I'm based out of the Pentagon, working as the lead investigator for the DOD's Terroristic Crimes Investigative Unit."

Now Gibbs was truly curious. He'd never heard of such a unit in the DOD. "So, you work in the D.C. area on terrorist related crimes?" he asked, leaning in towards the table, closer to her.

Enjoying his noticeably piqued interest, Emerald moved slightly in his direction as she spoke. "Not exactly. Our offices and lab are located in D.C. in the Pentagon, but we investigate crimes all over the country. I have a team of three criminal investigators with various areas of expertise, a data systems analyst, two forensic scientists, and access to a medical examiner as needed for cases involving autopsies. The core team and I, the three investigators, travel by Gulfstream jet to whatever location the crime has been committed or believed to been committed for field work investigation and send all the evidence back here to D.C. to our fully state-of-the-art lab for examination." She spied a hint of jealousy in Jethro's eyes, likely at the idea of having the kinds of resources at his disposal that she had at her own. "I can't begin to tell you how many terrorist attacks have been subverted through our investigative work in the past eight years, Jethro."

"It sounds like you do amazing work," Jethro replied softly, staring into her eyes again, a smile creeping across his lips and playing at the lines and creases in his face. She sat like a painted still-life, not even allowing herself a breath as she studied his features, trying to memorize every line, every angle, and etch each detail into the fabric of her mind. She wanted to close her eyes and see his face just as clearly as he was in front of her eyes at this moment.

Quietly, Jack shuffled around gathering the breakfast plates and empty coffee mugs, making his way into the kitchen to begin cleaning up. He still wanted to learn more about this beautiful stranger who had his son so entranced, but for now he was satisfied that she was a strong woman, independent and more capable of handling his boy than first impressions gave her credit for.


	4. Bourbon & Body Heat

Chapter 4

Leaning back against the workbench in the quiet of his basement, Gibbs took a slow draw on a coffee mug half-filled with bourbon. Needing a brief escape from everything, he had left his father reading the day's newspaper at the dining room table and Emerald lying back on the couch resting. They had just finished eating sandwiches for lunch when she admitted that she could really use a few moments to lie down again.

There was just so much to mull over in his mind, thoughts swirling in a frenzy through his head. Setting the mug on the bench next to him, he reached out, stretching his tired arms and shoulders, then pulled his arms up and back, interlacing his fingers and resting his hands against the back of his head.

_What are you doing, Jethro? What the hell is happening to you?_ He couldn't formulate any answers. His famous gut told him something was most definitely happening, of that he was sure. It would have been nice if his gut could fill him in on the details though. Gibbs felt confounded by Emerald's inescapable affect on him.

Thoughts of her body invaded his mind, sending shivers down his spine and a rush of heat through his loins. The desire to run his hands across her bare flesh was overwhelming, as was that to entangle his fingers into her beautiful red hair, pulling her lips to his, tasting them.

_Could she be interested in you? Is it attraction that you see in her eyes or do you just see what you want to? _He shook his head and reached back down for his bourbon, pulling it to his lips and tossing back the remaining amber liquid with one large swallow, feeling the burn as it ran down his throat. _Yeah. Take a bit more liquid courage there, Jethro. Maybe you'll find the balls to ask her somewhere in the bottom of a bottle._ At first, he reached out for the bottle of bourbon for a refill but thought better of it, placed the cap back on, pushed himself off away from the workbench and toward the stairs, taking them two at a time. _Man up, Marine._

Upstairs Jack was sitting in the living room chair with the television on as Em was half-sitting up looking over the back of the couch and out the front windows, staring off at nothing in particular as she had no interest in the program Jack was watching.

Feeling irritated at the sight, Gibbs glared at his father. "Dad, why would you go turning on the TV? Em was trying to get some rest." He felt the urge to shut the idiot box off but wasn't quite daring enough to cross his father, even in his own household.

"I didn't think it would bother her if I kept it quiet. I apologized for waking her. She said it was fine, that it wasn't really me," Jack declared in his defense.

Emerald turned to the men, finally coming out of her daze and joining in the discussion about her. "It's no big deal. Let him enjoy his show. You can't expect him to tiptoe around me all day long. Maybe I should just go home now."

Gibbs' heart dropped to the pit of his stomach with a thud. "No," he almost barked out as an order. Her eyes flew open widely, and her expression contorted to one of confusion with a hint of concern, possibly even fear of him. Trying to smooth things over, he smiled tenderly, his eyes warm and friendly, his voice gentle. "I mean, I promised the doctor I would monitor you for 24 hours. It's too early for you to go home yet. I'd feel terrible if you were to get into an accident on the way home because of your head injury."

She turned back to the windows for a moment watching a middle-aged man walking a small terrier down the sidewalk and considered her options before responding. Slowly returning her gaze to Jethro's she replied, "Well, I can't very well take over your living room all day, can I? Do you have any better ideas?"

Suddenly, a solution presented itself clearly to him, and he grinned. "Why, yes. Actually, I do."

Before either Jack or Em could question his 'better idea', Gibbs had crossed the living room, lifted her off the couch, and was carrying Emerald up the stairs. This time when he carried her, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and it felt to him that her fingers were lightly running across the short hairs at the back of his head. _Am I just imagining what I want?_ He reached the top of the staircase, continued down the hallway, and turned through the doorway into his own bedroom.

"Your idea is to bring me to your bedroom?" she asked, her voice not sounding quite like it had before, it was lower, sexier, enticing him with a slight breathlessness.

Courage building he allowed his eyes to meet hers. "I thought we could spend some time alone. Talk, or whatever." He let a mischievous grin play at his lips, hoping she was as willing and wanting of some 'whatever' as he was.

"I don't know what it is about you, Jethro. I'd never let any other man get away with this, or get so close to me." She nearly purred the words as she ran her fingers through his short hair.

_So I wasn't imagining it._ The thought nearly drove him mad as his mind faltered in finding the next step in the sequence of events unfolding before him. Reaching the bed in the middle of the sparsely furnished room, he gently laid her down, resting her head on his own pillow and stood there staring hesitantly at her for a few moments, suddenly feeling awkward and unsure of himself.

_Don't do anything stupid now, Jethro. You don't want to screw this up. You don't even know what this is, but don't screw it up._ Just before he could speak, she reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his and tugging him towards her. He stayed planted in place though. "Are you sure this is what you want, Em?" A smile widened across her lips and lit her gemstone eyes as she silently pulled at him in response. "That's not enough for me. I need the words, Em. I need to know that I'm not pushing you, especially after last night." He stared into her eyes, begging her to answer. "Tell me exactly what you want from me."

Closing her eyes slowly, she mulled over his plea, sucking in her lower lip and biting down on it almost enough to hurt while she tried to organize her own thoughts. Everything had been a blur since the second she met Jethro, and she couldn't be sure if any of this was real. She bit her lip harder. The pain was real. It was almost like trying to pinch herself awake from a dream. Opening her eyes as if she had just been sleeping, she looked up at him. Jethro was standing there before her, the light from the single window in the room shining in on him, giving her a clear view of his features.

It had been no dream of hers that Leroy Jethro Gibbs had silvery hair that lent a sophisticated sexiness to his appearance, along with the piercing ocean blue eyes set into his ruggedly handsome face marked with the lines and creases of his age that only managed to increase his appeal rather than detract from it. He stood up straight and tall, shoulders and chest broad and full of strength, his military background apparent in his posture. The loose clothing he wore did nothing to hint at the taut body of a Marine that hid beneath them, but he had held her close enough for her to know it was there.

Emerald knew what she wanted. She didn't know why, but she knew what.

_She's having second thoughts, Jethro. You moved too fast. You pushed her too far. Now she's changing her mind._

With one hand still in his, she reached and put her other hand into his free one as well, pulling him once again, this time off balance and almost onto the bed before he caught himself, surprised by her actions. Laughing softly, she finally responded to him if a sensuous voice that made his knees week. "Right now, I want you in this bed with me, Jethro. What happens from there, well, that we can take slowly. I'm not afraid to tell you to stop if you go too far, so come here."

There was no need to tell him twice. He kicked off his shoes, climbed onto the bed next to her, and pulled her into his arms, bringing her lips just inches from his. Jethro let his eyes take it all in for a moment. She was looking up at him, eyes half-closed, moist lips slightly parted, anticipating his kiss. Her breathing was shallow and quick with excitement, making her breasts rise towards his body and press against him with each intake of air. _Once you do this, you can't take it back, Jethro. If you kiss her, you better not be playing games. She isn't like your ex-wives. You'll never get another chance like this one._

Sliding one hand up her back, entangling it softly into her silken red locks, careful not to hurt her at the bump on her head, he pulled Emerald into a deeply passionate kiss. He worked his lips against hers, soft at first, then with more pressure, slipping his tongue in along her teeth and flicking it against her own, gaining intensity in his desire as she responded in kind. The scent of her filled his nostrils, kindling a fire within him.

Emerald let one hand slide along the muscular form of Jethro's chest as he pulled her closer into his body, running her fingers down the length of his abdomen searching for the hem of his shirt. Finally finding her destination, she deftly snaked her hand under the fabric, resting her palm against his bare skin. A low groan escaped from his lips at her touch, their kiss parting for just a second as the corner of his mouth turned up in a grin. The skin-on-skin contact made his body tingle with growing excitement. He needed her nearer.

Untangling his hand from her hair, he ran it down her back, over her ass, landing it at the back of her thigh, with one move pulled her leg over his and squared his hips between her inner thighs, mindful not to jar her injured foot. A giggle erupted from her, earning a quizzical look from him.

"What's so funny?" he asked, unsure how any of his gestures had been comical. That was certainly not his intention.

She looked up at him, eyes bright with a hint of mischief in them. "Don't you feel a bit like a teenager sneaking around upstairs with your girlfriend while your dad sits downstairs possibly only minutes away from catching you in the act?"

Jethro leaned his head back, rolled his eyes closed, and rubbed his hand across his face as if in defeat. Without warning, that same hand swung around, playfully smacking her on the ass and not letting go, jerking her forward once again bringing her lips just a fraction from his. She could feel his hot breath on her face as his voice came out in what she could only describe as a deep growling tone. "That's part of the fun, wouldn't you agree?" then nipped at her lower lip, tugging at it with his teeth in a way that made her oh so hot as she wondered if he could feel the growing heat between her legs in this new position. His own arousal was evident through both of their denim shorts.

Releasing her lower lip, his mouth trailed along her chin, across her jaw line, and found her ear where he began lightly biting and sucking at the lobe, breathing his hot breath heavily into her ear, sending shivers through her body. The feel of his soft wet tongue sliding down the length of her neck slowly as he stopped along its path to plant tender kisses and suckle her smooth skin was driving her crazy.

Em reached one hand around his neck, cradling his head, holding him against her, encouraging his endeavors. With her other palm still pressed against his firm abs, she left a fiery trail along his own body as she slowly crept her hand upwards, sliding her palm across smooth muscles and soft hairs, finally resting it at the center of his chest. She could feel the pounding and racing of his heart as adrenaline coursed through his veins, responding to his feverish desire for her.

Next thing she knew, his hand was caressing her body as it moved from her ass to her stomach. He pulled at the soft material of her top, making room for his large coarse fingers to gently glide underneath. The texture of his hands against her perfectly smooth skin felt oddly arousing. She tightened her leg around him and slightly bucked her hips toward him in response. The reaction spurred his efforts further. Gently continuing to nip and suck at her neck, his fingers ran upward along the length of her abdomen, finding purchase on one breast where his rough thumb began to massage at her nipple in small circular motions until it was fully erect, and she was quietly moaning in delight. One hand pulled his head harder into her neck as he began biting just a bit harder at her neck, his mouth trailing further down, nearing her upper chest. The other hand's fingers were embedded in his chest hair, gripping as her desire for him heightened, pulling at the hair until it was nearly painful, but this only served to arouse him further.

Feeling slightly disappointed when his hand left her breast and retreated down her body, her moaning quieted while she waited in frustrated anticipation of his next move. Finally, she felt his fingers fidgeting with the button of her shorts, and her whole body tensed immediately. "Stop," she said suddenly in a soft, yet sharp tone.

Jethro raised his head. He was trying to think straight, read her body language, take the right actions, but his ability to think was drowned out by the carnal urges of the flesh. His every advance had so far been met with notable satisfaction and pleasure. This reaction took him by surprise. _What did you miss? Did you do something wrong?_

The word came out slowly, as if he had forgotten how to speak. "Okay."

A pang of guilt shot through her at the look on his face. He had done nothing wrong. It was all her. She had given all the signals to him to keep going and no reason to believe it wasn't what she wanted from him. "I'm sorry, Jethro. I just can't sleep with you after having just met you last night. You don't know what I've been through with men, with falling in love. I just can't have casual sex. It's not me. I'm so sorry."

He knew more than she realized, and he also knew it was dishonest not to tell her that. _If you really want anything with her, anything real, you better learn to talk. You know how it plays out when you don't. Just tell her. Tell her what you already know. Tell her just how well you understand. Tell her. The second b in Gibbs doesn't have to stand for bastard, you know._ He inwardly laughed at himself, at his past mistakes with women. He knew every failed relationship he'd had ultimately was his own fault.

Gibbs leaned back from her slightly and propped himself up on one elbow so he could look her in the eyes more clearly as she lay there, her head still cradled by his pillow. "There's something I should tell you," he began. "At the hospital, there was a clerk at the front desk who kind of gave me some personal information about you."

The sudden clenching of her jaw and darting away of her eyes from his to the ceiling told him she guessed, at least in part, what he knew, and she was angry.

"I take it Becky was on shift." It was clearly a statement rather than a question so he said nothing.

Her hands were off of him at this point, resting on her stomach as she lay on her back, legs crossed at the ankles. Jethro's body was still against hers, lying on his side, eyeing her mannerisms carefully, trying to determine what he should say next, if anything at all.

"In her defense, I flashed my credentials at her. She probably thought it was necessary to give up information to me." It was the best explanation he could think of at the moment, although he was quite sure it would not satisfy her given the expression now on her face.

"There's no excuse for Becky." Emerald turned her stunning eyes on him once again, and they pierced through his heart. "I can only guess she told you about Ben. Probably told you about the baby as well. She never could keep her mouth shut about anything."

There was anger mixed with heartache in her voice, a feeling Jethro knew so well. "Yes. She told me. I know about them both." _Tell her, Jethro. Tell her you know how it feels. Tell her you know that loss. Tell her._ He hesitated, his voice wavering along with his resolve to speak, but it seemed she could read his need to share something with her as well. "I… I," he began, struggling to find the words. "I lost my wife, Shannon, and our daughter Kelly nearly twenty years ago. They were murdered while I was deployed in Iraq for Desert Storm." He took a moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath, trying to maintain his own composure. "I know how it feels to lose the one person in the world you're in love with want to share the rest of your life with. I know the pain of losing your child, your pride and joy, your world. I understand, Em. I really do."

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, her hands clasped over her mouth, muffling her cries. He reached his arms around her and pulled her into a warm embrace. Emerald buried her face in his chest and let loose of her sobs, not seeing the tears streaking his face as she did so.


	5. Amish Homes & Adirondack Chairs

Chapter 5

The first time Jethro had pulled up to Emerald's home it had taken him by surprise. It wasn't really that he knew what he expected, perhaps something classic and stately, more in line with her wealthy upper class roots. All he knew was that the custom, two-story, Amish built log home sitting squarely in the center of a three acre wooded lot outside of D.C., surprisingly nearby to Gibbs' own home, was not at all what he pictured. It was elegantly simple with a two-car garage and a wrap-around porch, a large river stone fireplace chimney climbing up the front of the house to the left of the heavy oak front door.

Inside was widely spacious, yet warm and inviting with a hunting lodge feel. The open floor plan of the living area was far different than Jethro's. During the daytime, upon entering the home, you were immediately taken by the bright airy feel lent by the large windows along the left and back of the house as well as the French doors opening off to the wrap-around porch. The living room area was well appointed with a seating arrangement of an overstuffed richly brown suede sofa and broad comfortable armchairs to either side of it, all surrounding a sturdy built oak coffee table and facing the river stone fireplace with a large flatscreen television over the mantle. It was the only sign of technology in the entire main living area, aside from the stainless steel kitchen appliances.

In the front corner of the open air space with the two-story beam ceiling sat a grand piano, and in the rear corner was the dining area furnished by a ten-chair walnut dining table with red oak inlaid designs. The remaining of the rear of this living area was filled with a gourmet kitchen separated from the rest of the space by a bar island wrapped around with stools to seat six.

It was in this part of Emerald's home that Jethro and Jack spent most of their time when visiting with her. Jack liked to chat for a while after eating, then take up residence on the comfortable sofa and take advantage of the flatscreen with satellite channels, a luxury not afforded him at his son's home. When he did this, Jethro and Em would grab a couple of beers out of the fridge and retreat to the pair of cedar Adirondack chairs in the small clearing off the back porch behind a grouping of pine trees where they could sit back, relax, talk about their days, and stare up at the stars in complete privacy.

Things had been slow for Em as she had been off full duty due to her foot for the past couple of weeks, unable to go out in the field with the rest of her team. She was getting restless stuck in her office only teleconferencing with them as they investigated three crimes already during her time of restriction. It was never that busy, but she figured it would be just her luck that everything would get crazy with her basically out of commission.

For Jethro, life had been the exact opposite, making him relish in these evenings with Emerald all the more. Not only was his team carrying on the usual caseload, but the manhunt for Paloma Reynosa was still feverishly underway with no luck, and his frustration was growing with each passing day. It did not help that he still had no communication from Mike Franks and feared the worst for his friend despite Em's efforts to encourage him to think positively. From everything he had told her about Mike, she believed he would have found a way to survive. It was easy for her to say, she hadn't seen the surveillance footage of the shooting.

"So, how did the doctor's appointment go today?" he asked after taking a sip of beer.

She swallowed her drink to answer. "Fine. She took the stitches right out and said it looked like everything healed great. She even says I probably won't have a very bad scar there, not that I'm too worried about a scar on my foot. Who really looks at feet?"

Jethro laughed. "I might if I want to kiss your toes."

Em giggled at him and took another swig of beer. "Anyway, she says I can go back to wearing regular shoes again."

He looked down at the flip-flops she was wearing tonight. "And those pass for shoes? Wasn't wearing those poor excuses for footwear what got you into trouble in the first place?"

She flat out laughed at that. "No. Actually, I believe it was you arguing with your father over beer that caused the whole problem. At least that's the story Jack tells me, and I believe him."

"You believe him over me?" he asked in a playfully incredulous tone.

"In this matter? Yes."

He said nothing more on the subject. She was right, and he knew it. He accepted it. Instead, he reached his hand out, palm up, smiling when she placed hers in his, and wrapping his fingers around, giving her a gentle squeeze before settling to simply holding it there between their two chairs.

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, something they had quickly found they had no difficulty doing. It seemed the two of them were intuitively aware of each other, capable of small talk, yet not feeling the need to fill silences with chatter just for the sake of chatter.

Gibbs took in a deep breath, closing his eyes, letting the fresh pine scent of the surrounding trees fill his senses. He loved it out here. He could get used to this. This was what he wanted; a beautiful woman who seemed to understand him, a cabin in the woods to escape from the hectic pace of the city, but still be close to the job he loved dearly; however, something was eating away at him over the past few days.

She knew there was something he wanted to talk about, need to talk about with her. She could feel it in him. Emerald knew better than to prod Jethro, however. They were too much alike in that respect. She probably wouldn't know about the three ex-wives yet if it hadn't been for an off-handed comment on Jack's part. Still, she felt she needed to ask, give him the opportunity to open up.

Em stroked the inside of his hand with her thumb. "Are you all right, Jethro? You seem unusually quiet tonight."

He tensed at her inquiry, and she felt it. _How do you tell her what's bothering you without sounding like the girl in this relationship? You're being ridiculous._ His gut was twisted in knots and had been for days. It was affecting his work. Even his team was noticing something amiss with him. Abby had been pestering him at work today to talk to her, but he knew Em was the only person he needed to talk to right now.

There wasn't much choice but to just spit it out. "Are we gonna be okay, Em?"

She nearly spit out the sip of beer she had just taken as the words hit her ears. "What? Why wouldn't we be? Do you think something's wrong? Did I do something, Jethro?" She was confused, anxious for answers, slightly hurt at his question.

"Maybe that wasn't the right way to put it." He held her hand securely within his, hoping to convey some of his true feelings for her in the small gesture. "I don't mean to say anything is wrong. It's just that with you going back to regular duty, flying all over the country to solve cases, and my own hectic work schedule, well, you know how hard it's been to see each other with you in town all the time. I'm just…" He hated to say the words, to admit his own weaknesses, to stake claim in his feelings, but he already opened the can of worms, he might as well go fishing. "I'm just afraid that this is it. We've had a great couple of weeks, but time won't be on our side after this, and what we have will just slip away. I don't want that, Em. I hope you know that's not what I want at all."

He tried to squeeze her hand again, but she was pulling away from him. Turning his head towards the trees in the opposite direction of her, he closed his eyes, willing himself to push back his emotions and put on his stoic face, the one he wore so often in front of others.

Gibbs knew he had long ago mastered the art of showing no weakness, no pain, no fear. It was just part of what made him a crack investigator and ruthless interrogator. He could distance his emotions from the situation. Most of the time. This wasn't a case. This was his life, his personal life. Despite what his team might think about his lack of a personal life, he did attempt to have one and had been successful in that for the past two weeks. _I told you. It always plays out this way. They always hate you. You don't know when to talk and when you do, you just can't say the right thing._

Just when he was about to get up, grab his beer, and head in the house to gather up his dad and leave, she stopped him in his tracks before he could fully stand. There she was, out of her chair and standing before him. She looked beautiful tonight, as he always thought she did, but the fear that he may never see her again made him look at her with renewed desire to memorize this sight.

In the light of the moon and stars, he could see the glow of her ruby hair gently flowing around her ivory skin and the soft sparkle of those bejeweled eyes, her full lips still wet with the beer she had just been drinking. It was early July and the heat in the air had her wearing a thin white sleeveless eyelet button-front top, cut to perfectly accentuate her curves and dipping just low enough to bare a hint of cleavage to him. Her tan linen skirt was simple and short, just the way he liked it, showing off her long legs. He noticed she had kicked off the 'shoes' he had just earlier complained about and was barefoot with her perfectly French pedicured toes.

Emerald said nothing but reached her hands towards him, taking his head in them and running her slender fingers through his shortly cropped silver hair as he leaned his forehead into her and wrapped his arms around her body, holding her tightly. He wanted to cry. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to know what to feel. He wanted to see the future and know that two weeks from now, two months from now, two years from now, he'd still be holding her like this.

Finally, he found his voice. "I'm sorry." He didn't really know what he was sorry for, but he felt it needed to be said, and, for her, he was willing to break his rules and say it.

She leaned over and kissed the top of his head. "We'll figure it all out. I want this as much as you do, Jethro." And with that he slid back into the chair, pulling her down on top of him so she would curl up on his lap like she had on previous nights. She gave in willingly to his silent request.

Sitting quietly with Em snuggling into his chest, Jethro felt peaceful, relaxed. For the moments he spent like that with her, his problem with Paloma Reynosa and worries over Mike Franks settled into a smaller place in the back of his mind. The whole world shrank down and became just the two of them. He knew she felt it too, could see it in her eyes when they were alone together.

He slid his hand up her back to the nape of her neck, running his fingers through her hair, gently tugging to direct her lips up to his, bringing them to meet tenderly, closing his eyes to focus on the way her mouth felt moving with his. Slowly parting his lips and feeling hers respond, Jethro slid his tongue across her teeth and sought to meet hers, tightening his grip on her hair, deepening the passion of the kiss as she flicked his tongue with her own playfully, rousing his desire for her.

The hand he had resting on her hip began wandering along her leg to the hem of her skirt, seeking bare skin. Once his fingers were at the edge of the cloth, he began snaking his way up her leg, slowly rubbing at her smooth, hot skin as he moved. She leaned in closer to him, allowing him access as her hands pulled and tugged at his shirt in an effort to expose his stomach and chest.

Jethro leaned forward a bit in the chair, giving her the chance to free his shirt off his back. He relinquished her lips from their kiss briefly while allowing her to pull his shirt up over his head, tossing it over onto the chair she had previously occupied. She wrapped one arm around his neck and across his shoulders, dragging her fingernails the way he liked, just hard enough to turn him on.

That was enough to drive him crazy. He grabbed her hair and pulled her into a feverishly passionate kiss, meanwhile driving his other hand the remaining distance up her skirt and grabbing a handful of her firm ass forcefully and bucking his hips forward against her body for good measure. He wanted no doubt in her mind how aroused she had him at that moment.  
A small series of moans escaped her mouth and vibrated into his, indicating her own excitements as his large rough hand kneaded at the soft, taut flesh of her ass. She gripped his chest hairs in response, causing him a tingling pain that he loved and only served to further his burning to desire to lay her back on the grass and take her right there.

Before he knew what was happening, Emerald had pulled back from their kiss, her hands had retreated from his body, but what she did next surprised him even more. She swiveled her body to straddle his lap and come face-to-face with him. Her delicate fingers went to the tiny buttons of her blouse, unbuttoning them one by one, slowly, sexily, her eyes on him, his eyes on the steadily growing trail of exposed ivory flesh in the wake of her fingers' movements. When her fingers reached the bottom of the blouse, she slowly shrugged out of it, tossing it atop his own shirt and was now sitting perched on his lap in a lacey white bra with a clasp in the front.

He was speechless. Jethro had seen his fair share of women in this state of undress over his lifetime, but never yet had he seen Emerald like this, and she was breathtakingly exquisite to behold. Over the past two weeks, they had certainly taken things slowly as she had said that very first day. They had made out like a couple of teenagers. Sure, he had slid his hand up her tank top a few times when she was braless and felt her breasts. He'd had his hand up her skirt and on her bare ass when she'd been wearing a thong before, and more than a few times he had been shirtless for her, but this was a first for them. He was unsure how to proceed, not wanting to make her regret moving forward. Raising his gaze from her bared flesh to her eyes, he sought the answer.

She gave him a warm smile that brought a light to her eyes he loved to see. "You don't have to ask. I'm ready. I'll tell you if I need you to stop."

Before he could he respond, her slender fingers were at the clasp of her bra and without any sign of hesitation, she released it, slipped off the lacey undergarment, tossing on the other chair and reached out for his hands. With minimal guidance from her, as it was his desire all along to do so, he brought his hands to her ample breasts, at first cupping them and gently squeezing as she leaned into his grasp.

His eyes had wandered to the mounds of perfectly curved flesh in front of him, her hands now releasing his, sliding along his arms, and finding the hard muscle and soft hair of his chest, once again raking her long fingernails along his skin. Jethro slid his hands along the outer curves of her breasts, allowing himself a fuller view of her nakedness. Leaning forward, he brought his mouth to one darkened nipple and licked it slowly, deeply enjoying the sensation of its hardening with each caress of his tongue. Stimulating her other nipple in the same manner while continuing to rub the first with his rough thumb, he could hear her soft moans of pleasure and feel her chest rise and fall in shallow breaths.

Emerald was thoroughly intoxicated by Jethro's touch, soft despite his calloused hands, the feel of his body under her hands, and his musky scent of Old Spice and sawdust. She felt completely overwhelmed with desire for him, with a need for him, an ache for him. He was warm, inviting, comfortable. He was intelligent and incredibly sexy. He was safe.

Leaning her head down and brushing her lips against his ear, she whispered, "I want you, Jethro." As if to emphasize her words, she rocked her hips, grinding the heat of her body against the aroused hardness she could feel within the cargo shorts slung low over his hips. She brought her lips to his, kissing him deeply before he could question her, then got up from the chair and stood in front of him.

The moonlight glistening off her bare skin, and Jethro's eyes glued to her every move, she reached her arms behind her to the zipper of her linen skirt and slowly unzipped it. Emerald slid the skirt below her hips and let it fall to her feet leaving her standing exposed except for the white lace thong he presumed to be a matched set to the bra lying in the nearby chair.

Finding his voice despite the frantic desire to have her nearly choking off his sensibilities, Jethro softly asked, "Em, are you sure about this?" _If she's doing this to keep you after what you said, she'll never forgive you in the end._ "If this is about what I said before, I'm not going anywhere. I swear."

She shook her head ever so slightly. "That's not what this is about. I'm just ready. I want to be with you, Jethro. I don't want to hold back from you." Not letting him argue any further, she slipped her thumbs under the stretchy lace slung low across her hips and slid off the last remaining barrier between her naked body and Jethro's eyes.

He couldn't help but grin at what he saw, a little surprise she'd been hiding beneath her clothes. She blushed crimson red, although he couldn't see it in the dim light, as she realized what had caught his eye. She had forgotten all about it.

"A tattoo?" His was an impish grin. "Really, I didn't take you for the tat type, Em." He leaned in closer to take a look and could barely see clearly enough to make it out. "Is that a four-leaf clover that says 'Get lucky' above it?" He choked back a laugh, not wanting to break the mood, assuming he had not already done that.

"Yes. Yes, I have a tattoo. Yes, that's exactly what it is. It was kind of a joke. I got it after Ben and I got married and told him that was how he would know if I was in the mood or not. If the tat was visible, he was getting lucky that night. If not, he was out of luck."

Jethro could tell she was feeling awkward by the turn of conversation and wanted to put her at ease. It couldn't be easy for her to stand there fully exposed, having him examine her body like this. He reached down and pulled off his sneakers and socks as she watched him in silent curiosity. With his feet bare like hers, he stood up from the chair, unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts. Letting them slide down to the ground, he stepped out of them, picked them up and added them to the pile on the other chair. Left in nothing but his black boxer briefs, he caught her gaze with his own and, with eyes locked together, he worked himself out of those as well until he was standing before her just as exposed to her examination.

A smile played at her lips as she realized what he was doing for her. In his own way, he was comforting her, making her feel safe and secure. She stepped to him as he pulled her into a warm embrace and leaned down to kiss her tenderly. The feel of bare skin to bare skin was enticing, a new sensation shared between them, adding fuel to the growing fire they felt for each other.

Their embrace became a tangle of arms and hands searching, grasping, clinging. Their lips seeking purchase on bare skin to further their desire. Fingernails across his back, teeth nipping at her neck, in minutes he found himself on the edge of the chair, now with her straddling his lap, legs wrapped around him, his hands on her hips, guiding her rhythmic motions up and down the length of his hardened shaft. Moans and sighs of pleasure intermingled with Jethro's heavy breathing and Emerald's slight panting breathlessness.

Soon their movements came to a frenzied climax of passionate ecstasy, reaching the final moment of release. He sought out her lips, holding her tightly against his chest as he treated her to a bevy kisses across her lips, chin, and neck. He couldn't find the words to describe how he felt for her as she relaxed into his arms' embrace. All he knew was he was happy.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was finally happy after nearly twenty long years.


	6. Whistles & Worries

Chapter 6

"and so she actually says to me 'I'm sorry, but I don't date older men, and you've gotta be like at least forty.' As if I look forty! Can you believe that, McGee?" came Tony's voice as the elevator doors opened, the two men walking out side-by-side.

"But Tony, you are like forty," came McGee's even response as he strolled into the squad room towards his workspace.

"Well thanks a lot, McDowner. I really need that coming from someone who would rather sit behind their keyboard geeking out on some World of Warcraft game instead of even trying to go to a bar and pick up a real woman to have real sex with." He threw his backpack on the floor by his desk in irritation and glared over at Ziva. "What are you grinning at?"

McGee ignored Tony's teasing about his choice in personal entertainment, as it was a near constant in his life, and he knew better than to encourage negative behaviors in Tony by playing into them. He turned his own attention to his computer and the few things he needed to get to work on for the morning.

"Were you out trying to pick up college girls again, Tony?" she ventured to guess from behind her computer monitor as she sat typing up a report she needed to finish for Gibbs.

Tony strode over to her desk, taking a seat on the edge, invading her personal space as usual. "Why, are you jealous?"

A wild look flashed across her eyes before she answered flatly. "No. I was just curious. That is all."

He knew better than that and leaned in closer so McGee wouldn't hear him. "It was just a dare. Some of my buddies from Baltimore came into town for the evening. Nothing happened, Ziva."

He waited for a smile to creep across her lips before retreating to his own desk so as not to raise any suspicions. Little did Tony realize their seemingly innocent aside conversations had already been noticed by McGee, and once again he was casually watching this latest exchange.

Just as they were all casually relaxed, Gibbs entered the squad room bringing the three agents immediately to his attention. This time it wasn't that he yelled out "Grab your gear!" or an off-handed comment on their doings prior to him entering that took them all by surprise because he hadn't spoken a word. He looked like their Gibbs. He was dressed in his typical style; navy blue sport coat, royal blue polo shirt, white undershirt, gray slacks, shiny black boots. He carried his usual cup of coffee in hand like every morning, but he was decidedly 'un-Gibbsy' this morning.

Gibbs had entered the squad room whistling a pleasant tune as he made his way to his desk, set his coffee down, smiled and said, "Good morning, team," then sat down in his chair and began tapping away on his keyboard with a half-grin on his face.

The three NCIS agents had never seen Gibbs whistle musically before. He had occasionally whistled loudly to get someone's attention, but nothing like this. He also wasn't one for the pleasantries of bidding the team a good morning either, and given the events over the past few months with the Reynosa cartel, Mike Franks, and everything else he and the rest of the team had endured, it seemed any amount of grinning on his face should be completely unexpected.

Feeling all six eyes on him, Gibbs looked up from his monitor. "What?" he asked his team in a voice that was half-joking, half-warning. It served to avert their attention back to their desks, or at least force them to pretend they weren't staring at him. He was well aware that his behavior was out of the ordinary and enough to cause confusion in his team, but he just felt too incredibly good after the previous night with Emerald to give a damn this morning.

With the sideways glances, peeking suspiciously around monitors from all three directions, getting a bit old, Gibbs decided perhaps the squad room was not the best place to be for the time being. He stood from his chair, swiped his coffee cup off his desk, and headed toward the back elevator with a sure and steady gait. _Duck won't ask any questions. Well, he might ask, but he'll butt out when you don't answer them, Jethro. Or, maybe you can answer just enough to get some advice without giving yourself away. You're a seasoned agent, Jethro. That shouldn't be hard._ He nodded to himself just as the elevator doors came open at the autopsy floor and he tossed his now empty coffee cup into the trashcan outside the doors.

One would think that an autopsy suite would be a cold, sterile, uninviting place to be, and at NCIS, the room itself was no different; however, with Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard's presence in the room, the room was filled with a sense of the very opposite effect. Ducky was warm, personable, and always full of friendly banter to make you feel welcome into his space.

More than a simple medical examiner and holder of a Master's degree in forensic psychology, Ducky was a big part of Gibbs' team, Gibbs' family of sorts, the uncle to the fatherly role Gibbs played in this family. Most importantly, Ducky was Gibbs' oldest friend and trusted confidant.

Upon hearing the doors open, Ducky looked up from the reference book he was reading at his desk, seeing Jethro sauntering in towards him. "Jethro, what a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting you. We haven't any bodies, and I keep trying to explain to you, there is nothing more I can tell you regarding your friend Mr. Franks from that surveillance video. It's impossible to give a prognosis.."

"I know, Duck. That's not what I came down here about," Gibbs assured his friend. "You made it clear you can't do any more. I've dropped it. Enough said."

Ducky turned in his chair a little more to better face his friend who had perched himself on the corner of the desk. "Then how can I help you, Jethro?" Eyeing the expression on Jethro's face, calm eyes, relaxed jaw muscles, a slight smile playing across his lips, it was obvious he was in a better mood than Ducky had seen him in, well, Ducky couldn't remember how long. He was quite sure it was too long though. "You seem to be in a good mood. Could that have anything to do with your unexpected visit?"

In a teasing tone, Gibbs replied. "Boy, Duck, nothing gets past you. The squad room got too awkward when I came in a bit 'peppier' than usual so to speak." He sat on the desk, suddenly feeling awkward himself, unsure what he really meant to tell Ducky. His private life had always been just that, private. It seemed inappropriate to share too much of himself at work seeing how he did not want to become part of the rumor mill that ran constant around the office and possibly ran even more rampant within his own team.

"Was there something in particular you wanted to tell me? Perhaps some news that led to this 'peppier' Gibbs your agents are so discombobulated over?" Ducky regarded Jethro's demeanor, the calming of the recent storm in his eyes, yet a certain tension, ever present at the idea of opening up about himself. As Ducky saw it, one of Jethro's greatest weaknesses was the inability to communicate with others on a personal level, to let down his guard and let people in.

_How do you word what's happened to you over the past two weeks? Where do you even begin? Is it even possible to describe what Em makes you feel?_ "I've sort of met someone." Thinking back to that night, he added, "It was kind of under unusual circumstances, not the sort of thing you'd expect of me. Really, it's gonna cost me a fortune." _That hospital bill is gonna break the bank and there's no way insurance will cover it._

Ducky mulled that over for a minute trying to decide how to take that. Jethro's words were vague at best. He chose the most direct question first. "Jethro, you're not getting married again, are you?" concerned for his friend after losing one wife and further suffering three miserable divorces.

That took Gibbs by such surprise he nearly fell over and off the edge of the desk. "What? No! Why would you think that?" In truth, he and Emerald hadn't spoken about their future together until last night's discussion of wanting to work through the difficulty of her hectic schedule now that she returned to regular duty. Marriage certainly hadn't been brought up by either of them at this point in the relationship. They had each suffered their own pain in that realm and weren't looking for more. _Be honest with yourself, Jethro. The thought's crossed your mind. You don't really want to grow old and die all alone, and Em is everything you want._ He shook the thought from his head. _Don't be ridiculous. You couldn't possibly be everything she wants. Not for a lifetime. Not for her lifetime. She deserves more than you can give her._

Still unsure exactly what it was his friend had come to talk about regarding this newfound woman in his life, and feeling a bit confused as to the nature of this relationship, Ducky tried another question. "I'm glad you've found someone to make you happy. What is she like, if you don't mind my asking?"

What was Emerald like? Gibbs smiled at that question. He had answers to that. "Perfect. She's perfect, Duck. She's unbelievably beautiful with this long wavy deep red hair and sparkling green eyes like you've never seen on a woman before." Gibbs glanced at Ducky who gave a knowing smile, recalling his own youthful infatuations with beautiful young women. "Intelligent. She's definitely intelligent. Probably one of the most intelligent women I've ever met. And she's funny too. She knows how to make me laugh, Duck, and I mean really laugh." His mind replayed the last two weeks, his smile fading to a wistful expression. "She's tough and independent, but has this certain fragility about her that I can't explain. She's gentle and caring and thoughtful too." The smile returned to his face, and he looked at Ducky again. "Like I said, she's perfect."

As great as that all sounded, Ducky was a tad concerned that Jethro was putting this woman up on a pedestal that would eventually put her out of his own reach. Knowing Jethro as he did, he knew his limitations and downfalls, and the ability to see his worthiness to be loved was not one of his dear friend's strengths.

While Ducky was thinking over the comments Gibbs had just made about Emerald, Gibbs' own thoughts had taken a turn down another road. _If she's so perfect then why are you doing this to her? She doesn't deserve to be dragged into this Reynosa mess. If you cared about her half as much as you think you do, you'd stop yourself right now. You would have stopped yourself last night. Was it just about the sex for you? You just couldn't help yourself. Been too long, just a bit too horny, had to have her when the opportunity presented itself. Did you even care that she's going to expect more from you now, and that means endangering her life? Does this all come down to risking her life just to get your rocks off? God damn you, you are such a bastard._ The smile was gone and so was the calm in his eyes. The all too familiar storm was returning.

"Duck, have you ever done something that seemed right at the time, something you really wanted to do, something that satisfied you at the time, but perhaps was wrong? Others may even look at it as being immoral?" he asked, his tone gruffer than before.

Considering his words carefully, it took Ducky a moment to answer. "Jethro, I suppose we all have times in our lives that we could look back on, assess, and believe those things to be true about. There are many gray areas in life in which the answer to what is right and what is wrong is quite subjective." After thinking for a second, he added, "It's up to you to determine whether or not you believe it to be wrong and, if so, to take actions not to follow that road any longer and find a way to forgive yourself for the mistake you made."

_You can't very well leave her now. She could be in danger because of you. If you care about her at all, now is not the time to run away from her._ Gibbs knew deep down a herd of wild horses couldn't drag him away from Emerald. Frustrated, he rose from the desk. "What do you do when you choose to keep doing it and know damn well you'll never forgive yourself?" and with that he stalked out the doors leaving Ducky utterly perplexed.


	7. Starry Skies & Velvet Boxes

Chapter 7

Thousands of tiny twinkling lights lit up the ceiling like stars glittering in the night sky. The glow of the candle at the center of their table warmly lit up the features of her face as the lights above reflected in her eyes giving them a sparkle that captured Gibbs' breath as he watched her take in the restaurant's unusual décor.

Emerald was in absolute awe of the romantic 'under the starry sky' theme of the restaurant. "Jethro, this is just amazing. I had no idea this place existed in the city. How did you know about it?"

Not wanting to admit to anyone, even Em, that he actually did hear what Tony was saying when he rambled on about his dates and the 'perfect' places to take a woman if you really wanted to romance them, he simply replied, "A friend mentioned it. I'm just glad you like it."

Their server came over, introduced himself, announced the night's specials, and asked if they'd like to order any drinks to get started. Wanting to make it a special night, Gibbs opted to order a moderately expensive bottle of wine, only offering the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile and a quick wink in response to Em's raised eyebrow at his unusual choice. It would certainly be an odd evening without their typical fare of beer or bourbon.

Once the server left the tableside, the couple turned their attention to their menus. Gibbs pulled his reading glasses out of his chest pocket and donned them before they each went to browsing through the selections silently.

Music softly played throughout the room, at first nothing particularly of interest, but for some reason, the gentle guitar and subdued lyrics of the next song captivated Gibbs. He found himself lost in thought as he listened intently and let the meaning of the words wash over him, emotions welling up in him at what he heard.

"_Saw the world turning in my sheets and once again I cannot sleep.  
Walk out the door and up the street; look at the stars beneath my feet.  
Remember rights that I did wrong, so here I go.  
Hello, hello. There is no place I cannot go.  
My mind is muddy but my heart is heavy. Does it show?  
I lose the track that loses me, so here I go."_

_It's really no wonder you barely sleep, Jethro. So many things you've done wrong in your life, things you can't make right. And boy is your heart heavy, weighed down with all this baggage you just keep dragging around. When are you ever gonna let it go? _He stole a glance up from his menu to Em and back down. _Can you let go of it for her?_

"_And so I sent some men to fight, and one came back at dead of night.  
Said he'd seen my enemy. Said he looked just like me,  
So I set out to cut myself and here I go."_

_Boy, if that isn't you, your own worst enemy, Jethro. Always cutting yourself apart. Always reopening old wounds. Never letting yourself heal. What do you really have to offer her? A broken man?_

"_I'm not calling for a second chance,  
I'm screaming at the top of my voice.  
Give me reason but don't give me choice.  
'Cause I'll just make the same mistake again."_

_That's you, Jethro. Screaming for a second chance. Only, this isn't your second chance. Do you even know how many chances you've had and screwed up? What makes you think you deserve this?_

"_And maybe someday we will meet, and maybe talk and not just speak.  
Don't buy the promises 'cause, there are no promises I keep.  
And my reflection troubles me, so here I go."_

_To talk and not just speak. Yeah, that's your problem. Do you even know how to communicate with a woman? And talk about not keeping promises. How's three ex-wives for proof of that?_

"_I'm not calling for a second chance,  
I'm screaming at the top of my voice.  
Give me reason but don't give me choice.  
'Cause I'll just make the same mistake,"_

_You can't risk screwing up this chance. There is no choice here. You know there's not. Everything you feel for Em gives you all the reason you need not to let her become another mistake._

"_I'm not calling for a second chance,  
I'm screaming at the top of my voice.  
Give me reason but don't give me choice.  
'Cause I'll just make the same mistake again."_

_No, this time can be different. She's not like the others. You know she's not. It's not just about being lonely with her, there's so much more. So much more._

"_Saw the world turning in my sheets and once again I cannot sleep.  
Walk out the door and up the street; look at the stars.  
Look at the stars fall down.  
And wonder where did I go wrong."_

_Yeah, you don't need to wonder. You know damn well where you've gone wrong, and it's about damn time you start doing something right for a change._

The song ended and with it its spell over Gibbs. He returned to actually reading his menu, feeling a bit anxious now. He would have been fidgety if it were in his nature to fidget. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he felt for the velvety feel of the small box from the jeweler to reassure himself it was, indeed, still there. _Just checking. Not the right moment quite yet. We should probably at least eat first._ He pulled his hand back out of the pocket, empty.

"Have you decided what to order yet, Em?" he asked, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt.

Her big glittering green eyes rose from the menu and met his gaze with a smile. "It all looks so good, Jethro. Very tough decision, but I think I'm going to go with the cedar planked salmon. How about you?"

Not having spent nearly as much time pouring over the menu as he had spent lost in his own thoughts he looked down, spotting something that struck his interest almost immediately, and chose that. "Not to shock you, but I'm going with the twelve ounce ribeye steak." He grinned as she rolled her eyes at him and added, "I will be good and have a salad with it."

Finally returning with their bottle of chilled wine, their server apologized for the wait, poured a glass of the deep red beverage for each of them, took their orders, collected their menus, and left them to their privacy.

Picking up the delicate wine goblet and raising it toward Emerald as she did likewise, he gave her one of his most entrancing blue-eyed stares as he proclaimed softly, "To a night out alone with the most beautiful woman in the world. It means everything to me to be here with you."

She smiled coyly in return, riveted to those intense eyes gazing into hers, stealing her breath. Their glasses clinked together lightly in a toast before each taking a sip of the wine. Finding her breath and voice again after swallowing, she quietly commented, hoping not to embarrass him. "You know, Jethro, I had no idea you had such a romantic side to you. I mean, this is like a dream."

Jethro, who she had gotten so used to seeing either in his typical work attire or his much more casual t-shirt and jeans or shorts, was fully decked out in a handsome and stylish navy blue, three-button suit, pale blue shirt, and coordinating blue tie. All three brought out the tremendous hue of his eyes making them all the more magnetically appealing.

"You don't think I've been married four times for my money, do you?" he joked, knowing he had never been like this with Ginger, Diane, or Stephanie. Even with Shannon, although the desire was there, the finances for fancy nights out weren't. Caring for a small family on the single income of an enlisted Marine was never an easy task, and sacrifices had to be made. He pushed the invading thoughts from his mind and refocused on the incredible creature he called his own tonight.

Several other couples headed to the small dance floor in the center of the room as the first few beats of a new song came on. Being decidedly brave on such a special night, Gibbs rose from his chair, extended his hand, making her an offer she couldn't possibly refuse. "May I have this dance?"

She took his hand and let him lead her the short distance, where he spun her around gracefully into his arms, their bodies swaying smoothly, feet stepping with surprising agility, as 'Old Blue Eyes' could be heard crooning away.

"Oh, I love this song, Jethro. I think it's my favorite one Sinatra does," she declared quietly in his ear as he held her close, one hand wrapped around her narrow waist, sliding slightly along the silken fabric of her dress. His other was enclosed around one of her small hands, leaving her free arm wrapped around his shoulders, fingers playing at the short hairs at the back of his head out of habit.

She relaxed into his embrace and listened to the song as they danced together for the first time. It wasn't a terribly slow song, and soon he had her smiling and laughing as he spun her around the dance floor in blissful grace.

He couldn't help but notice the lyrics were just right for the night with Em and smiled back at her as they danced.

"Fly me to the moon. Let me play among the stars.  
Let me see what spring is like on a-Jupiter and Mars.  
In other words, hold my hand. In other words, baby, kiss me.  
Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more.  
You are all I long for, all I worship and adore.  
In other words, please be true. In other words, I love you.  
Fill my heart with song. Let me sing forever more.  
You are all I long for, all I worship and adore.  
In other words, please be true. In other words, in other words, I love you."

Soon the music of the song was over and so she believed was the dancing of the evening. "I had no idea you could dance like that!" she exclaimed, nearly breathless, a huge grin on her face.

Unable to resist the urge, he leaned in for a kiss before replying, "Unfortunately, you have to thank my being married four times for that. Four wedding receptions is a lot of dancing. You pick up a few things."

The music had changed to a ballad, and Jethro wasn't quite ready to let her out of his arms yet. Pulling her closer to him and slowing their movements in gentle time to the rhythm of the new tune, she soon had her head laid on his shoulder, nose snuggled into his neck, breathing in her favorite scent of Old Spice and sawdust that lingered on him regardless of how many showers he took.

Gibbs once again felt the words of the song calling out to him, stirring emotions in him he was finding more and more difficult to control. He relaxed into the soothing feel of her so near, the scent of her lavender shampoo filling his senses with each intake of air as she nestled her head in the crook of his neck, her hair tickling his ear.

"Someday when I'm awfully low, when the world is cold  
I will feel a glow just thinking of you, and the way you look tonight.  
Oh, but you're lovely with your smile so warm, and your cheek so soft,  
There is nothing for me but to love you, just the way you look tonight.  
With each word your tenderness grows, tearing my fear apart.  
And that laugh that wrinkles your nose, touches my foolish heart.  
Lovely, never ever change. Keep that breathless charm.  
Won't you please arrange it? 'Cause I, I love you  
Just the way you look tonight...Just the way you look tonight."

It seemed like the whole world was trying to tell him something tonight. Every song he heard, every thought spinning in his head, every beat of his heart was trying to tell him just to do it, just to go for it. _Not quite yet. After dinner. When the moment's right._

The song was over, and they returned to their table relaxed and happy, ready to partake in more wine and enjoy the salads they found waiting for them.

Soon the wine goblets were empty, as were the salad plates, and Jethro refilled their glasses just as hot platters of delicious smelling dinner were brought out and placed before them.

Conversation was light and comfortable, no mention of caseloads, Paloma Reynosa, or former spouses. They turned to more lighthearted topics they often enjoyed spending their time on when they needed to feel less stress; Gibbs' woodworking projects, which fascinated her, Emerald's piano playing, which mesmerized him. They discussed a sailing trip they planned to take on the sloop that once belonged to her father when things finally settled down and intentions to spend a long fall weekend at the family hunting cabin in the Catskills she had inherited from her grandfather.

With plates cleared, Jethro extended a hand across the small table for two, palm up, reaching out for her with a smile. It only took her a moment to place her hand in his and meet his eyes. He seemed to be building the courage to say something so she sat quietly and waited patiently, knowing how he liked to take his own time to say the things on his mind.

Running his thumb over the back of the slender hand resting in his calloused palm, he felt his heartbeat steadily quickening as the moments passed. _Now. You've been waiting for the right time. That time is now. You can do this._ He reached his free hand into the jacket pocket containing the small box from a family owned jeweler not far from his home.

"I have a gift for you," he said. His voice was low and almost timid as he withdrew the box and laid it on the table in front of her, his heart pounding in his chest, threatening to escape its confines.

She eyed the box with an unreadable expression on her face, her mouth slightly agape, her breath caught in her throat somewhere along with her voice.

"Go ahead, open it," he encouraged as he opened the hand holding hers.

With great trepidation, she removed her hand from his, picked up the box, and carefully lifted the lid with her other hand, gasping at the sight of its contents. "Jethro! It's beautiful! Wherever did you find this?"

"I actually had it custom made for you. It's not exactly something easy to find. I'm glad you like it." He breathed a sigh of relief, but the hammering of his heart didn't slow, there was still more to it. _More to say._

Emerald's eyes examined the delicate gold box chain from which dangled a small pendent in the shape of a flip-flop with tiny diamonds studding the straps. "I absolutely love it, but I don't understand why. Am I missing something?"

This was the part that was making Jethro nervous. "For one, I never replaced the one I broke in the supermarket, so I thought I'd buy you one that would last longer. Secondly, today marks one month since we first met, and I wanted you to know that I remembered and cared about the little things like that. But mostly it would make more sense probably if you looked on the back," he said, hoping maybe she would figure it out, but knowing the words had to be said.

She took the pendent in her fingers, turning it over, and read the tiny inscription on the back. "Jethro, I think they got the words backwards. Did you check this before you left the store?"

"Yep. They got it right."

"But it says…"

"I know what it says. I told them what to put on it."

Emerald just looked at him slightly confused by the meaning, and he knew more needed to be said.

Thankful her neck was bare tonight, Jethro made his move. "May I put it on you? Please?"

That brought a smile to her face. "Of course."

She removed the delicate necklace from its box as he stood up and came around to stand behind her, taking the strand of gold into his own hands and waiting for her to pull her long red hair up out of the way so he could place it on her slender neck. Once the clasp was firmly in place, he gently took her hands in his, letting her hair flow softly down her back again, and leaned over, bringing his lips to her ear. He kissed it before whispering, "I am truly yours for as long as you'll have me."

Kissing her ear once more, he returned to his seat, extended his hand to take hers once again, looking into her eyes, watching and waiting for some response. He wasn't sure how long it would take her to process that.

"And what if I want to keep you forever?" she questioned him in a hushed voice, as if afraid to ask him such a thing, her thoughts still lingering on the inscription he chose so eloquently, 'Truly yours, LJG'. It was so simple, so Jethro.

His lips widened into a broad smile that lit his piercing blue eyes. "Please do." _Tell her, Jethro. Say the words. Now is the right time._ And without further hesitation, Leroy Jethro Gibbs said the words he never imagined saying to another woman in his life and actually truly meaning with all his heart and soul. "I love you, Emerald."

"I love you too, Jethro," came Emerald's voice across the table, making his heart beat double time and the smile broaden further across his face.

They got the check as quickly as possible and left the restaurant to head to Emerald's house. Jack was safely at Jethro's with agents guarding him and wasn't expecting his son home tonight anyway. He had had a feeling the night would end with the two of them at Emerald's, fully enjoying the lack of a chaperone for once.

Little did Gibbs know the entirety of events at the restaurant had been seen from across the room, although nothing that had been said could be heard from the distance, a lot could be read, or misinterpreted, through body language.


	8. Spies & Misconceptions

Chapter 8

They huddled over the secluded corner table, speaking in hushed tones, sipping on nearly empty glasses of wine, already several refills into the evening, dinner plates cleared from the table just seconds earlier. This was one of their nights, a night away from the office, pretending to be under the stars in their favorite restaurant in the city.

He reached out and stroked her cheek, brushing his thumb along her jaw line, tucking her hair behind her ear, placing his hand over hers where her fingers had been fidgeting with the hem of the napkin. "You look beautiful tonight."

"You always say that." The smile playing at her lips reached her dark eyes, a hint of color pooling to her tanned cheeks. Only with him did her defenses drop and her feminine side show. With him, she could be vulnerable and feel safe.

"I always mean it."

"Good thing I never tire of hearing it." She set her wine glass down and began running tiny patterns with her fingernails over the back of his hand where it lay over hers. "Are we dancing tonight?" she asked, hearing a song come on that struck her interest.

He looked across to the dance floor. "It doesn't look too crowded tonight. I suppose we could get out there and show people how…" but something caught his attention, tensed his whole body, and rendered him momentarily speechless, not an easy task to be done. "Ziva, I think we may have a problem."

Confused by his sudden change in demeanor, she turned her head to see what he was looking at. "What do you see, Tony?" she asked just before her eyes landed exactly where his were. "Oh, no. This is not good."

Tony and Ziva had been seeing each other ever since that fateful trip to Paris last year, where, despite what they each told people, neither of them slept on the couch in the shared hotel room. In fact, neither of them slept much at all that night. All the playful teasing, sexual innuendoes, partnership, and deepening bond over the four years prior had built up to that night of passion and promises.

The fact that they worked together wouldn't necessarily pose a problem in some workplaces, but with Gibbs' firm rule number twelve to never date a coworker, things were complicated. Unless they wanted to face their boss' judgment for their perceived indiscretions, their relationship had to be kept top secret.

For being top secret, it wasn't exactly the best-kept secret in NCIS history. Being Ziva's best friend, Abby had dragged it out of her within a few weeks. Unbeknownst to them, Ducky had spotted them out one romantic evening just a couple of months later; however, he solemnly swore to himself to keep the young lovers' secret. Tony and Ziva were unaware that McGee had been putting two and two together for a few months now and was pretty sure he'd caught onto them as well.

If Gibbs knew, he had made no mention of it, given no stern reprimands, no harsh warnings of the mistake he believed them to be making, or any other such thing. They had no reason to believe Gibbs had any idea about their secret romantic relationship.

"Do you think he saw us?" Tony asked her, sounding very much like a teenager about to get busted by his father for sneaking out past curfew.

Ziva kept her eyes across the room, monitoring the situation carefully. "No, I do not believe so. Gibbs seems quite distracted by his companion." She noticed the way Gibbs seemed so different. She couldn't put her finger on it, but he was very unlike at the office. "What do you think he is doing here? Do you know who that woman is, Tony?" Her curiosity was getting the best of her.

Relaxing slightly at the idea that Gibbs hadn't noticed them and was, in fact, quite distracted by the mystery redhead, let Tony take a moment to regard the woman his boss appeared to be having dinner with this evening. The obvious feature was the signature red hair, long known to be a favorite of Gibbs, a deeply rich hue flowing in gentle loose waves down the back of this intriguing woman. She was clad in a sexily revealing, yet elegant, silken hunter green spaghetti strapped dress with a plunging neckline, low cut back, and rather short length, all showing off her desirable feminine curves, toned, late twenty-something body, and long slender legs.

Tony noticed that the unknown younger woman with his boss held herself with poise and a certain grace that suggested she perhaps came from money or was at least used to a certain level of upper class lifestyle. It was something he recognized from his own upbringing, years spent around snobbish debutante rich girls. In her, he saw 'high maintenance' in neon lights, screaming out she wasn't Gibbs' type.

"I don't know who she is, but she can't be his girlfriend. Gibbs doesn't have a girlfriend, and if he did, it wouldn't be someone like her," he finally replied, quite sure of himself.

Ziva was a bit confused. "Why not? She is a redhead and very attractive. Is it because she is so much younger? Do you not think a younger woman would find a man like Gibbs appealing? Some younger women prefer older men. I for one think Gibbs is a very attractive man."

Tony turned to her, mouth agape. "I can't believe you just said that, Ziva. Especially to me. I'm hurt." He feigned a little pout, knowing full well that she had always believed so about Gibbs, but that she was not personally attracted to him like that. Ziva loved Gibbs like a father, and Tony knew it.

She giggled quietly, but returned to her original questions. "Really though, Tony, why do you not think she could be Gibbs' girlfriend?"

"It's sorta tough to explain. There's something about the way she walked in with him, the way she took her seat, the way she holds her head up like that, something that tells me she's used to money, comes from money or something. I don't think she's Gibbs' type. You know what I mean, Ziva?"

Studying the woman across the room more carefully, Ziva saw an elegantly stunning lady in green seated across from the gruff former Marine she was so fond of, but she did not understand what Tony was seeing. "No, I am afraid I do not."

Keeping his eye on the couple, Tony tried to come up with the best way to explain what he saw to Ziva. It struck him that it wasn't just the woman who seemed all wrong, but Gibbs seemed out of place and not right. He turned his attention to his boss and realized the man was dressed all 'GQ' and had ordered a fairly expensive bottle of wine for the evening. Gibbs appeared to be trying to impress this younger woman the way Tony had other women before Ziva. And he seemed _nervous_.

He absentmindedly reached out for her hand as he spoke. "Zee, does Gibbs seem odd to you? I mean, really look at him, the way he's dressed and acting, and tell me if you see anything different about him."

She smiled at the way he used his nickname for her, interlaced her fingers with Tony's across the table, but remained watchful of Gibbs who seemed uncharacteristically ignorant of the eyes on him. "The fact that he has not noticed he is being watched is out of the ordinary for Gibbs. Of that I have no doubt. He has yet to look over here at us or even survey the room to do a threat assessment, which _our_ Gibbs would always do." She paused to take a sip of her wine after Tony emptied the remainder of the bottle into her glass. "He is dressed unusually fancifully tonight, certainly not something you would see Gibbs in for anything other than a very special occasion. I do detect a hint of discomfort, perhaps anxiety in his body language. Could he be nervous?"

Their server came up at that moment, before Tony could reply. "Can I get you two anything else or are you ready for the check this evening?" she asked politely.

Tony paused for just a second to assess the situation, then responded, "We'll have another bottle of wine and two dessert menus please. I think we're going to take our time tonight and enjoy the ambiance." He flashed one of his 100 watt smiles at the young server, who blushed.

"I'll get that right out to you, sir," she said quickly then turned on her heel and fled from the table.

"Tony, do you take pleasure in embarrassing young girls with your flirting?" Ziva questioned, nudging his arm playfully.

He ignored her teasing, turning his attention back to Gibbs and his redheaded mystery date. "Yeah, nervous is what I thought too. He just doesn't seem like Gibbs."

She leaned in across the table, suddenly speaking very low, as if Gibbs could hear her. "Do you really think we should be indulging in another bottle of wine and dessert, Tony? Do you not think we should get out of here before he sees us?"

"Hm, well, my dearest, do you see any other exits from this restaurant other than the one that takes us directly past Gibbs' table guaranteeing he will see us? I'm sorry, but in that dress you're wearing tonight and in this particular romantic restaurant, there's no way he'd believe we were here as just friends. Aside from that, do you really want to put him in the position of knowing we saw him out with this mysterious younger woman? I can just see the stars before my eyes from the extra hard head slaps I'd get at the office for just having a hint of an idea of what Gibbs does in his off hours, aside from drink bourbon in his basement alone, if he knew that I knew something. You get me?"

Despite what seemed like rambling from her partner, in every sense of the word, she understood him clearly. "Yes, Tony, I get you now. You are right. We cannot leave until Gibbs does." She twitched her lips in a momentary pout that he did not see, frustrated that the night was not progressing the way it was intended to. By now, they should have been in a cab heading back to her place, warm from the wine, hot with desire. No, this was not at all what either of them had planned.

"What is Gibbs doing? Can he even dance?" Tony exclaimed, almost too loudly, to Ziva, as he watched his boss lead the woman out onto the dance floor as the voice of Frank Sinatra filled the room. "Wow. I guess he really can. I had no idea."

"Oh, Tony, I really wish we could be out there dancing together tonight. Seeing them makes me so jealous." She wasn't afraid to admit that to him. He would understand. They loved to come here and twirl around the dance floor, under the twinkling lights, in each other's arms with carefree abandon. "He really is a good dancer. Very impressive."

They watched with rapt attention as Gibbs spun his date around the wooden floor in the center of the room, not seeming to have a care in the world. Tony and Ziva were both surprised to see the couple smiling and laughing together as they danced, nearly breathless as the song ended.

Soon the tempo changed as the music became softer, turning to a gentle love song, and they saw Gibbs pull the woman's body close to his as she lay her head on his shoulder, her fingers in his hair, his hand quite low on her back. It was obvious to the two trained investigators spying on them that they were intimately familiar with each other.

Tony started putting the puzzle pieces together as Gibbs lead his apparent lover back to the table, and suddenly he was horrified at the thought of what was happening here. "Ziva, I think I know what's going on, and you're never gonna believe it. You're definitely not going to like it."

"Well, spit it out, Tony," she said impatiently. She had no idea herself and hoped he had figured out the mystery.

"You remember the case we had involving Holly Snow where Gibbs ended up saving her life in the end?"

"Yes, of course I remember. It was quite a surprise when our murderer turned out to be Charlotte's lawyer boyfriend all along."

"I think Gibbs' friend Holly has been sending him thank you gifts since then. You know, former 'business associates' of hers. It would be too obvious if Holly herself were to be seen with him." Tony nodded in a slight gesture towards Gibbs and the young woman accompanying him this evening.

Ziva took a minute to process that information before her eyes grew wide and she looked at Tony, her jaw dropped, a gasp escaping her mouth. "You cannot mean… I mean…There is no way Gibbs would…You do not really think she is a…" She couldn't put together a full sentence, say the words, or bring herself to believe that about Gibbs, the man she adored and respected.

"I know how much you look up to him, Ziva. We all do. But he is only a man, as much as we all like to believe he's more like some indestructible crime fighting superhero who can do no wrong. He's been alone for a long time and under a lot of stress. Maybe Holly's been sending him gifts all this time, or maybe it was just once, and he's just kept seeing her of his own accord." Tony hated to think of his mentor, his substitute father, in that light just as much as he knew Ziva did. "I don't know, Zee. I just know she isn't Gibbs type, too high class, definitely the high priced escort type who worked for Holly Snow. She could easily be on the arm of a senator or high powered executive."

She was quiet for quite a few minutes, and for a while, Tony thought she might actually cry, although he knew she wouldn't likely let herself do so until they were in the safety of her apartment. The disappointment hung heavy in those beautiful dark eyes he loved so much, probably even more than it showed in his own face.

Sometime during this quiet, their server brought the bottle of wine and dessert menus, opening the bottle and refilling their glasses, but not saying a word, apparently sensing her comments would not be welcome, leaving quickly once her task was complete.

Given their newfound revelation that Gibbs, the man they both looked up to more than anyone else, a man who had always believed in bringing criminals to justice and upholding the law above all else, was apparently seeing a call girl, neither Tony nor Ziva were in the mood for dessert. They set the menus off to the side and instead, indulged their heartache in the wine silently, holding each other's hands for comfort.

Each of them kept stealing glances over at Gibbs and his expensive 'date', watching and wondering why he would do it, what he was thinking. Then Ziva found reason to question Tony.

"Tony, if Gibbs were paying this woman for sex, why would he take her out on a date, and why does it appear he is giving her a gift, some sort of necklace? That does not seem abnormal to treat a prostitute in that manner?" She felt a small sense of relief that perhaps Tony could be wrong.

"Ziva, it's not always just about sex. She's not just some prostitute. She's an _escort_. He could be paying for the illusion of a relationship, for companionship. That may be part of the package, dinner, dancing, then sex. Everything he would get from a relationship but without any strings, no having to communicate feelings, no expectations beyond what he pays for. As for the gift, it's not unusual for a regular John of a woman in that profession to give gifts as tokens of appreciation for a job well done in a sense, almost like tipping a waitress in a restaurant, but more personal. In a way, it feeds the illusion of a personal relationship. Gibbs obviously has been seeing this particular woman for some time and developed some attachment to her." The disappointment was now thick in is voice, almost choking his words. Ziva squeezed his hand gently, reminding him she understood exactly how he felt.

In their eyes, Gibbs, the man, the myth, the legend, had just suddenly fallen from grace with a thunderous crash.


	9. Compliments & Courtesans

Chapter 9

Arriving to the office much earlier than usual, Tony dropped his backpack at his desk and headed to the rear elevator just has he had planned, nearly running headlong into Gibbs as he turned the corner.

"Oh, hey, Boss." Tony suddenly felt himself nearly strangle with anxiety as he recalled the events he saw unfold a few nights before, but didn't want to seem suspicious. "How was your weekend?"

"Fine, DiNozzo. What are you doing here so early?" Gibbs questioned in his typical direct manner.

"I, uh…well, you see…I, you know…" Tony tried to think fast.

"No, I don't know. How's about you elaborate," Gibbs said flatly, taking a long draw on his ever present coffee, waiting for his senior agent's explanation.

Tony's brain finally functioned, and he replied, "I had a date this weekend, and things were a bit awkward. I think she was sending mixed signals, and I was thinking that Abby's so good with people maybe if I talked to her about it she could tell me if I should call this girl back and go out with her again or just leave it alone. I thought I'd come in early to talk to her before starting work for the day so it wouldn't be a distraction later on."

Gibbs didn't say anything right away, and Tony thought for a second he had been seen right through. "Good thinking, DiNozzo. I just came from there, and she's not too busy. Just make it brief. There is work to be done even without an active case. We still have Paloma Reynosa on the loose." With that, Gibbs proceeded to his desk, leaving Tony slightly stunned.

"He just complimented me," Tony said to himself almost inaudibly as he stood in front of the elevator waiting for the doors to open. That was a most puzzling behavior out of Gibbs. Gibbs just about never complimented anyone on his team for anything other than Abby, on whom he dished out healthy doses of praise, hugs, and kisses on the cheeks and forehead on a regular basis, as well as a near constant supply of her favorite drink, Caf-Pow!.

Upon entering the elevator, Tony pressed the button to head to Abby's lab and hoped he wasn't making a huge mistake. Everyone knew Gibbs and Abby had a special relationship that no one quite understood, and Tony wasn't sure that she would accept what he was about to say, but seeing as she was the only one who knew about him and Ziva, she was the only one he could talk to.

The doors opened, and Tony made his way hesitantly into the music filled room known as the lab where the Goth forensic scientist stood in front of a computer monitor at a workstation in the center of the room. She was swaying to the beat of the music, her jet-black pigtails swinging back and forth in time with her movements, short plaid pleated skirt swishing slightly at her hips, her three-inch platform black patent leather boots slightly squeaking as she rocked along, and her fingers tapping furiously at the keyboard. She stopped tapping for a brief second to reach for a giant Caf-Pow! sitting on the workstation and took a huge slurp.

Without turning a fraction of an inch, she called out, "Hey, Tony. What's up?" and hopped energetically around 180 degrees to face him directly, bringing her thick black spiked dog collar and studded leather wristlets visible. "What brings you to my lab on this bright and beautiful Monday morning?" she asked in her usual chipper voice, broad, black-lipsticked smile plastered across her pale face, green eyes bursting with cheer.

Tony looked hesitantly back at the armed NCIS agent posted at Abby's door for her protection at Gibbs' orders ever since Paloma Reynosa had threatened to kill those dearest to him. "Can we talk somewhere private, Abby?"

"Sure, Tony. Is everything okay?" she asked as she led him to her inner office, pushing the button for the door to slide closed, giving them plenty of privacy of conversation, although the glass door offered no visual privacy. Abby plopped down in her desk chair with a bounce. "Shoot. What can I do ya for? Everything okay with you and Ziva?"

"Everything's great with us. Although this does involve her too, seeing as how we were out on a date together, so you're the only person to talk to about it."

He suddenly felt incredibly guilty to involve her in this. Knowing how she loved Gibbs, he didn't want to be the one to shatter her image of him. Little did he know that Abby had already suffered the reality of Gibbs' faults when she had to investigate the murder of Pedro Hernandez, the Mexican drug dealer who had murdered Gibbs' wife Shannon and daughter Kelly. All the evidence made it clear that Gibbs' had, in turn, murdered Hernandez in cold blood as an act of revenge. No one else on the team knew that this was the reason Paloma Reynosa was after Gibbs. Paloma was Hernandez' daughter.

"You know, Tony. If you don't talk, I won't be able to help you. I can't read minds. I mean, I'm really good, but even I am not that good," Abby urged good-naturedly.

Tony thought of an idea that may give him the information he needed without breaking Abby's heart unless he had proof. "Abby, can you do a search of the criminal database for me using certain parameters from in here or do we have to go out there?" He gestured to the outer room.

"No, I have access on this computer as well. What do you need? Is this for a case?" she asked, always curious.

"I'll be honest with you, Abby. It's personal, and I will eventually tell you what's going on. I promise."

"Pinky swear?" She held out one hand, pinky finger extended which he wrapped one pinky around, sealing a solemn oath with his friend. "Now, what do you need me to search?" she asked, turning to her computer, fingers poised on the keyboard.

"District of Columbia, charges of prostitution, particularly any of the women linked to the Holly Snow case. I need pictures brought up." The search yielded too many results. "Can you narrow it by hair color?"

"Yeah. Hair color, eye color, height, weight, any stats that are taken on a criminal and entered into the database."

Tony tried to recall tiny details about the woman Gibbs was with, how high her heels were, how tall she stood next to him, her build, all things his years as a cop had trained him to notice about a person. He never saw her close enough to get her eye color, but the rest he thought he could narrow down for Abby.

"Okay then. Red hair, 5'8", 130 pounds, unsure on eye color," he stated.

He came around to stand behind her, leaning over her shoulder as she entered the information, and watched as results began popping up, scanning his eyes across each photo that Abby showed him. Each one was wrong, and one by one, they closed the windows with the women's pictures. Tony felt a deep sense of disappointment as the last window closed.

Tony was sure he wasn't wrong about _what_ the woman with Gibbs was, but perhaps he was wrong about _who_ she was. He could only think of two other options. Possibly, she had come into contact with Holly after the scandal; therefore, she never suffered the public embarrassment of charges or a conviction. The other option was less appealing. Gibbs had hired this woman on his own and was completely unrelated to anything with Holly Snow.

"Remove the part about being tied to Holly Snow, and search again, please."

"Okay, but then you have to tell me what this is all about," she answered as she tapped a few keys and began bringing up the new results.

Once again, they scanned through each photo, each one just as wrong as before. Tony was getting more and more frustrated and beginning to get worried that Gibbs would come hunting for him soon. He hoped Ziva was successful in keeping their boss upstairs as she had promised she would if Tony's discussion with Abby ran too long. He looked at his watch. It was still early. They hadn't taken quite as long as he thought.

Abby caught him looking at his watch. "Don't think you're going to escape my lab without explaining yourself, Anthony DiNozzo. Now tell me what this is all about."

Taking a seat at the edge of her desk where he could face her he started, "You're not gonna like what I have to tell you, Abby.

For all the gruesome crimes their team had worked together to solve, for all her Goth looks and sleeping in a coffin, Tony had never known anyone with such a compelling innocence and childlike naivete as Abby, particularly when it came to Gibbs.

"Well, you're going to tell me anyways because I have ways of getting information from people you know, Tony," she said in a darkly threatening tone.

Of that he had no doubt. Abby could be very persuasive. "Ziva and I saw Gibbs out the other night while we were on a date."

"Oh, no, Tony! He didn't see you guys did he? Are you busted? What did he say?"

"No, he didn't see us. Our secret's still safe, as are our jobs, and the backs of our heads, at least for now." He hoped she forgot about the prostitute search in the excitement of thinking Gibbs caught the two of them.

"So what does seeing Gibbs out have to do with prostitutes?"

No luck. He was going to have to give in and tell her what he and Ziva witnessed, what they figured out, and ask her for help trying to figure out what they should do.

"Gibbs wasn't alone, Abby. He was with someone. Someone he shouldn't have been with." Tony waited for that to sink in for a moment.

Abby stared up at him with her big green innocent eyes, obviously not getting where he was going with this.

"Abby, Gibbs was with an escort. A very classy one, quite attractive, but still an escort." He waited again for her reaction.

She kept staring for a few minutes then dropped her eyes down, refusing to meet his, refusing to believe him. "No, Tony. Gibbs would never do that. You must have been confused. He must have a new girlfriend."

"Has Gibbs said anything to you about a new girlfriend, Abby? I mean, he's probably more open with you than anyone else on the team."

"No, but that doesn't mean anything, Tony. Gibbs doesn't talk about himself like that, not even to me," she declared adamantly.

Tony took in a deep breath, ran his hand through his hair, and gently slapped his hand down on his thigh in exasperation. "Abby, when was the last time you knew Gibbs to even have a girlfriend?"

Thinking back, Abby answered hesitantly, realizing it had been about three years, "When he was dating Colonel Mann. What's your point?"

"And how did he meet her?"

"Through NCIS working a case with Army CID."

"My point exactly. Gibbs' only girlfriend in the entire time I've known him has been a woman he met through work. We certainly haven't worked any cases with any female agents fitting the description I just gave you, and you know that. The man has no social life outside of work. He doesn't hang out at bars unless we drag him out with us after a long day, so you know he doesn't meet women in bars. He doesn't even own a computer at home, so he certainly isn't doing the online dating thing. I don't see Gibbs answering a personal ad in the paper and definitely not placing one. How exactly do you propose he would get a girlfriend?"

Satisfied he had made his point clearly, Tony sat silently and waited for the usually peppy Goth girl's response.

She answered glumly, "I don't know, Tony, but what makes you think she was a prostitute?"

"Body language, intuition, years as a cop, and anyway, Ziva saw her too and agreed with my assessment." Suddenly, Tony felt horribly guilty for telling any of this to Abby. "I'm sorry. I know this isn't something you want to hear."

"Don't apologize, Tony. It's a sign of weakness," she said, her voice cracking with the same emotions settling across her face. Tony found it ironic that even facing Gibbs' imperfections and possibly immoral actions, she could still use one of Gibbs' rules.

"I don't know what else to say."

"Tell me why," she said softly, her big eyes turning back up to face Tony's.

He didn't really have an answer for that, only a simple theory. "He's lonely, Abby. I mean, we're all like a big dysfunctional family, but as much as he doesn't show it, I think the boss is just lonely for companionship that we can't give him. You should have seen him, Abby. He was sharing a bottle of wine with her, chatting over dinner, even danced with her and was laughing and smiling. He wasn't the Gibbs we see here at the office. He was Gibbs romancing a woman, all smooth and debonair. Maybe sometimes he just needs to be that kind of man, remind himself that it's still in him, but with an escort there's no risk of being turned down or getting hurt."

Abby's eyes changed as she appeared to be pondering this thought, mulling it over in her mind, feeling sorry for Gibbs being lonely, picturing him in the romantic role Tony described, yet still being hurt and angry over the kind of woman he chose to be with.

"Tony, I think maybe you should talk to Ducky about this. I mean, he's known Gibbs longer than any of the rest of us and has that Master's degree in psychology. Maybe he can make sense of this and tell you you're wrong. Maybe there's something you're missing, Tony. Please, talk to Ducky," she pleaded with her hands clasped together and her big eyes glassy with the tears they threatened to shed.

"Okay, Abby. I'll talk to him. But right now I've gotta get to work or Gibbs will come hunt me down and head slap me for fooling around on his time."

He gave her a big hug, hoping to make her feel better and headed back the elevator, hoping Gibbs wouldn't be waiting impatiently for him in the squad room.


	10. Headmasters & Confirmations

Chapter 10

It was late in the day before Tony had the opportunity to sneak down to autopsy and talk to Ducky. The Director called for Gibbs to sit in on a meeting with him that was going to take quite a while, and there were still no new leads as to the location of Paloma Reynosa to follow. The time was there before him.

Tony glanced across the squad room at Ziva, giving her a small nod, knowing she understood what he meant.

"Well, I'm gonna hit the vending machines. Gettin' the afternoon munchies," he declared as he stood up from his desk, stretched, made his way around the cubicle wall, and down the hall toward the break room where they were located, all for the benefit of McGee.

Once he was out of sight, he veered off in the opposite direction, heading instead to the elevator, and pressed the button to take him down to autopsy.

Inside the autopsy suite he found Ducky hunched over his desk studying some book, and Jimmy Palmer shuffling around the room putting away some new supplies that seemed to have just arrived.

Palmer greeted Tony happily, "Hey there, Tony. What are you doing down here?"

"I'm not here to stay Autopsy Gremlin. Now scram, I need to talk to Ducky alone," Tony said in his threatening, yet good-natured manner that Palmer was never sure how to take.

Looking between Tony and the floor and then at the doctor, unsure what to say or do, Palmer finally stammered out, "I'll just go be somewhere else," and made a hasty escape.

Ducky cleared his throat, causing Tony to turn around and face him. "Is there some reason in particular you chose to scare off Mr. Palmer this afternoon, Anthony?"

Tony had the overwhelming sensation of being in the headmaster's office in boarding school, about to tell on a friend for some misdeed he should possibly have kept his nose out of in the first place. He paced the floor for a second, leaned forward with both hands on the nearest stainless steel table, then turned around and hopped up to take a seat on it, facing Ducky.

"I really need to talk to you about something, Ducky. I need advice. I need to figure something out, and there's only so many people I can trust to talk to."

Eyeing his young friend for a moment, Ducky pursed his lips together, inhaled a small breath, then spoke. "Anthony, if this is about your romantic relationship with Ziva, I already know and have for several months now. Your secret is safe with me, and I'm…"

"Um, Ducky. As glad as I am to hear that you won't say anything about that and surprised that you know, that's not what I need to talk to you about. It's Gibbs," Tony interrupted.

The serious expression on Tony's face worried Ducky. "Is something wrong with Jethro that I should know about? What's going on?"

Tony's stomach churned and twisted in knots, anxiety building at broaching the subject with the kindly elder gentleman. He felt sure Ducky would insist it was all nonsense, that his longtime friend Jethro Gibbs was not a man who would consort with prostitutes, or even high-class escorts.

"This is probably going to sound preposterous, I know, but Ziva and I were out the other night at a very nice restaurant we like, really romantic place. Anyway, after our dinner, while we were enjoying some wine, we saw Gibbs come in with a significantly younger woman. I mean, no offense to older men who date younger women, there's nothing wrong with that. I know you've enjoyed the company of a few attractive younger women yourself, Ducky," Tony backtracked, trying not to sound bad. "But she looked like she was maybe in her late twenties, and she was a totally smokin' hot redhead in this really sexy little dress. Right off that just didn't seem like Gibbs, I mean, you know, except for the redhead part."

"Anthony, Jethro may be a man of a certain mature age, but he is still a man nonetheless, quite capable of desiring a woman, and a woman in her late twenties is still a woman mature enough to make the decision for herself to become involved with a man his age. This is perhaps something you should try to stay out of. If Jethro did not see you and Ziva together; therefore, did not find out your own secret, it is probably for the best that you just pretend that you don't know anything about this woman he apparently wishes to keep secret from us."

Ducky seemed to be quite calm in the idea that that was all it was, Gibbs was just involved with a younger woman. Tony still had more to tell though, and it just seemed this was getting harder.

He struggled for the right words to describe what he saw in the woman that triggered his initial gut instinct to suspect something 'hinky', as Abby would say, about her. "It's not just that she was young and really hot, Ducky. Not that I have a degree in psychology or anything, but I've been a cop for years now and can read people pretty well, body language and all that. I can tell you she was the high maintenance type, used to money. Either she grew up with a lot of it or is used to high powered men willing to flash it around for her. She wasn't Gibbs' type at all, not the type of woman he'd actually date."

Giving him a hard look, Ducky asked a simple question of Tony. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that I think, and Ziva agreed after watching them, that Gibbs was with an escort, Ducky. And a high dollar one at that." He held his breath in silence, waiting for Ducky's reaction.

It took what seemed like an eternity for the good doctor to show any recognition of Tony's words on his face. He was no longer looking at Tony, rather staring off at nothing in particular, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts, possibly torn between believing Tony's instincts as a cop and believing in the good character of his friend of many years.

What Tony didn't know was that Ducky was thinking back to just a couple of weeks before to the strange conversation he had with Jethro about a woman he met, something about unusual circumstances, not the sort of thing he'd expect of him, and the cost associated with it. Then there was the question regarding the morality of his choice. It was all making sense now with this new information.

Slowly, Ducky's gaze rose back to meet the younger man's. "I believe you, Anthony. Not that I want to, of course, but I do," and he then proceeded to explain that conversation he'd had with Jethro as Tony listened intently, shocked at what he was hearing.

"So didn't you question what that was all about at the time?" asked Tony when he had heard the whole story.

"Well, I did, but I really had no idea what to make of it. The entire conversation was so vague and perplexing. It wasn't until you just came in and told me this that all the pieces fit and the conversation made sense," Ducky answered honestly.

Tony raised his hands to his face, leaning into them for a second before running them through his hair and taking in a deep breath. "Oh, man, Ducky. What are we going to do? We can't let him ruin himself like this. If he gets busted he'll lose everything, his career, his reputation. How could he risk it all so stupidly? I mean, this is Gibbs. He's smarter than that."

Years of knowing Gibbs did little to help answer Tony's questions. "I don't know, Anthony. Jethro must be incredibly lonely to go to such extremes to fill the void in his life. I agree we must find a way to intervene and stop this self-destructive path he's taking. The risk to him is far too great. However, we should be considerate of the deep pain that would lead him to take such desperate measures."

"Well, Ziva and I are in. I talked to Abby this morning. She was the one who insisted I talk to you since she took it really hard and really didn't want to believe it was possible. The only one who doesn't know is McGee. You think we should let him in on what's happening?"

"We all love Jethro as part of the family this team has grown to become. I believe it would be best that we try a group intervention approach to let him know we do love him and are here for him, that he's not alone. That would entail the whole 'family' being involved, so yes, I do think Timothy should be clued in regarding the matter. You do realize, however, Anthony, that telling him what you saw will also likely reveal where you were, what you were doing, and most importantly who you were with at the time don't you? That means he will find out about your relationship with Ziva," Ducky reminded him.

Tony laughed. "I suppose that will just leave Palmer, Gibbs, and Director Vance out of the loop regarding our romantic entanglement." The look he was receiving from the doctor had him rethinking that statement for a moment. "Oh, crap. Ducky, that's not fair."

"I'm sorry, but that's the way things go. It can't be helped."

"But we've been so careful all this time and kept it from him for so long."

"Given the circumstances, there's no way around it."

Tony's shoulders slumped forward in defeat. "I can't believe this. All the hard work keeping our relationship secret from Gibbs and now we're gonna have to go and spill it to him anyway when we tell him we saw him out with a prostitute. Oh, this just sucks!"

He could just imagine Ziva swearing at him colorfully in one or more of the several foreign languages she knew and throwing him out to sleep on the couch for insisting on sticking his nose in Gibbs' business when she finds out they have to do an intervention and tell him they saw him out with the escort.

"No one ever said helping a friend in need was easy, Anthony, but it will all be for the best, and I'm sure Jethro will forgive the two of you for breaking his precious rule. As they say, 'rules are meant to be broken'." Ducky paused to see if Tony's expression showed any sign of relief, seeing none, he just went on. "We should make plans to meet outside of the office, with McGee included, and discuss this matter further. Do you and Ziva have any plans for tonight?"

Turning his attention back to Ducky, he answered, "No, why? What are you thinking?"

"I was thinking an impromptu poker game at Abigail's place as we've done before, only with poker as a pretense to get McGee there." Before Tony could reply, Ducky was calling up Abby in her lab on the two-way video phone. "Abigail, are you there?"

"Hey Duck-man. What can I do for you?" came Abby's voice as her face popped up on the small screen.

Knowing there was a NCIS agent posted in her lab on Gibbs' orders, Ducky kept the conversation cryptic, but clear to Abby. "I've Anthony down here with me right now. He was just telling me about the poker game the two of you were discussing this morning, and I agreed it sounded like a great idea. We both think McGee should be invited too. Would you like to call him or should one of us?"

Abby caught on right away. "Yeah, the poker game. I forgot all about McGee. Sure, he can come. I'll call him myself. Are we still talking about tonight? I was thinking eight o'clock? We should be able to get out of here plenty early since we're not busy."

"Eight sounds wonderful. See you then, Abigail."

The video feed cut off, leaving it back to Tony and Ducky again sitting alone in autopsy. "Boy, Ducky, you're pretty slick there. I'm sure Darren never picked up on anything." He glanced down at his watch. "If you'll excuse me, I should get back upstairs. Ziva and I will see you tonight at Abby's. We'll talk more then." He hopped off the table to leave but turned back to Ducky once again. "And thanks, Ducky. I'm glad I could talk to you."

"You're welcome, Anthony, anytime. I just hope it's not always about such terrible things as this."

With that, he left autopsy and returned to the squad room, stopping off at the vending machine to grab the snack he supposedly left to get in the first place. McGee probably figured the machine ate him by now. Tony laughed at the thought as he walked down the hall toward his desk, trying to think of anything other than the rather disappointing conversation he'd just had with Ducky.

He had really hoped that Abby was right, that Ducky would set him straight with some deep insight into the situation and how he couldn't possibly be correct, how he'd misread the whole thing. Confirming Tony's suspicions by telling him of the vague and strange conversation he himself had with Gibbs just weeks before was not what the senior agent expected at all.

As he reached his desk, Ziva was watching him carefully. Knowing he couldn't say anything in front of McGee just yet and not wanting to use interoffice email to discuss the matter, he pulled out his cell phone to send her a brief text.

_"Bad news. Ducky confirmed. Poker 2nite Abby's. 8pm. McGee invited. ILY"_ he typed and pressed 'send'.

In a moment, Ziva's phone chimed, indicating a text message received. She checked it and glanced across the squad room at him, a somber expression across her face. Looking back down he could tell she was texting something back and in a few seconds his phone beeped.

_"I hope there will be liquor. __ ILY2"_

Tony agreed. They would all need a drink tonight.


	11. Unused Kitchens & Unspoken Words

Chapter 11

The Hemi engine of his 1971 Dodge Challenger rumbled a low growl as he turned the final corner and pulled it slowly into his driveway, noticing his dad had remembered to turn on the front porch light for him again. He shut off the engine and grabbed the take out bag off the passenger seat before exiting the car, making his way up the path, trudging up the steps, nodding at the armed agent on guard he passed as he did so, and stuck his key in the front lock.

"That you, Leroy?" called out Jack's voice from the dining room as he entered the house.

"Yeah, Dad. It's me. Sorry I'm so late." He rounded through the living room to the dining room to see his father folding laundry on the small table. "Dad, what are you doing? I told you I can take care of myself. You don't need to do that. I have a system. I'll take care of my own laundry." He dropped the bag on the table and moved the basket of clothes to the outdated couch off to the side.

Jack looked frustrated and partly defeated, slumping down into the chair beside him. "Son, I can't just sit around here doing nothing all the time. I'm used to staying busy. You gotta let me help you around here if you want me to stay. I know it's been a long time since you had to share your living space with somebody else, but even though this is temporary, you've got to give a little, Leroy." Eyeing the bag on the table, he continued. "And you know, if you let me do some more of the grocery shopping and maybe called to let me know when you're gonna be home, I could cook something better than take out for dinner. Do you realize how often we've been eating take out when that girl of yours is out of town on a case, son? I know you like it when she cooks and we go over there, but that doesn't mean your kitchen can't get used too."

Gibbs stared at the bag on the table, as if it were the guilty party in this situation, and tried to calm the anger he felt rising in the pit of his stomach. "Dad, I've had a really hard day and don't feel like having this discussion right now. Can we just eat already? I'm starving. I've been living off coffee all day. Double homicide this morning, makes for a very long day."

Jack kept quiet as his son unpacked the hot food from the bag and began placing the containers around the table. It was Chinese food again. He'd just sit there and keep his mouth shut about how tired of eating damn Chinese food he was. He really wished Em was back in town so they could have dinner at her house again.

She'd been gone for nearly a full week on this case somewhere outside of Dallas, and Jack was starting to miss her almost as much it seemed as his son did. He didn't dare ask if Leroy had heard any word from her. He knew better than to bring up the subject with him already in such a foul mood.

They sat in stony silence eating their food, Jack assuming his son was preoccupied with the case he was currently working on, not knowing his thoughts were also on his absent girlfriend.

_She'll call when she has time. You know she will. Or she'll send a text to see if you're busy and can talk. You can't just go calling her up while she's in the middle of a case. You'd be furious if someone did that to you. Well, maybe not if Em did. You know you'd take her call almost anytime, anywhere, but she is trying to wrap this up and get home as quickly as possible. You know she misses you. She's told you every time she's spoken to you on the phone. She loves you and misses you. Can she even imagine how much those feelings are returned? Do you tell her enough just what she means to you? What if something happened, and she never came back? Would she really have ever known?_

He tried to shake the thought from his head, but it was difficult. They had dangerous jobs, faced dangerous criminals, put their lives in harm's way to protect and serve the interests of the nation. Sometimes it was hard to picture her fighting and firing a weapon, protecting herself from the bad guys.

He'd seen it before, at least the theory of it. They had gone to her gym and sparred for fun a couple of times, and she'd whooped his ass to his surprise. All her years of martial arts were more than a fair match for his hand-to-hand skills learned in the Corps and at NCIS.

They had also gone to the firing range for target practice a few times, and she'd had no trouble landing all her shots either straight to the head or directly in the chest, depending on where she chose to aim. Nothing veered from her intended target. She was right on her mark.

There was no doubting her ability to take care of herself from a defensive standpoint, but Gibbs had been taken by surprise himself more than a few times. He'd been put in situations there were no ways out of and had survived out of sheer dumb luck. His fear was Em being backed into that type of situation, something where she felt she had no choice but to sacrifice herself for the sake of her team. She would lay down her own life for her team, just as Gibbs knew he would for his own.

The thought was unbearable.

Suddenly not feeling so hungry, he cleared his take out containers to the kitchen to throw them out and wash his hands. Leaning against the edge of the sink, he hung his head down, fighting back the wave of emotion that threatened him. He took in a deep breath, counted to ten, and let it out slowly. Feeling back in control, he returned to the dining room.

"I'm going upstairs to change," he said as he walked on through the room, through the living room, and made a left to the staircase leading to the bedrooms. He was too tired to take them two at a time as he often did, instead, he trudged up them slowly, feeling weighted down by thoughts, emotions and a stressful day.

In what seemed like an eternity, he finally reached his bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed and began the process of undressing. First came his boots, then socks, he shrugged out of his sport coat, pulled off his polo shirt, removed his undershirt. He sat there in a state of half undress for a few minutes, as if unsure how to complete the task, but really just so tired he felt that if he laid back he could fall asleep in minutes. Instead, he stood up, removed his phone from his belt and laid it on his nightstand, taking his side arm and badge and opening the lockbox he had moved to the dresser, placed them securely inside, along with his credentials he had removed from his jacket chest pocket. Unbuckling his belt and slipping it out of the pant loops, he rolled it up and placed it on the dresser for the next morning before removing his wallet from his pants, setting it on the dresser, and slipping out of them too.

He began the task of gathering the clothes that were now lying all over the bed, collecting them and placing them in their appropriate places, some in the hamper for laundry he did, some in the basket of things to go to the dry cleaner. His reflection in the mirror caught his attention as he passed by to get a t-shirt and pair of jean shorts for the remainder of his waking hours.

Being with Em for the past nearly six weeks had been good for him. Dating a younger woman had him spending a bit more time than usual each day in the NCIS gym, taking extra care to increase both his cardiovascular and weight lifting exercises. She was extra motivation to be fit and in perfect health. The efforts were beginning to be noticeable in the mirror as he stood there in nothing but his boxer briefs, and he couldn't help but wonder if she had seen the difference and appreciated it.

The sudden chirping ring of his cell phone brought him out of his thoughts. He went to the bedside, picked up the phone, took a seat on the edge of the bed, and flipped it open.

"Hey there. I was just thinking about you," he said in a low sexy growl into the phone.

Her musical laughter came across the line. "I take it you were thinking about me in the bedroom from that tone of voice."

She sounded tired, despite her attempt at being playful with him, and he immediately felt guilty for expecting her to be anything other than exhausted. She was away from home, the case she was working was particularly frustrating, and of most importance to national security. She carried a lot of weight on her shoulders with this one.

He relaxed his voice. "I am actually in the bedroom. I just got home a bit ago, ate Chinese again with Dad, and came up to change. Not sure what I'm gonna do after this. Probably finish the laundry he decided needed to be started while I was at work."

"Speaking of work, how was your day, Jethro?"

"Ugh, do you really want to know? It can't compare to what you're going through right now, but it was a rough day for me. Double homicide. Naval Petty Officer and his wife found shot in their home on base in Norfolk. I hate driving all the way to Norfolk, makes for a very long day. Not, of course, like flying all the way to Dallas though." He felt he was stumbling around digging himself a hole.

"Jethro, take a deep breath. You can tell me about your day without worrying how it compares to mine. Our jobs are similar in some ways and very different in others, I completely understand that. Do you have any leads on your murderer yet? Strong evidence to support any theories?" she asked simply, as if every dating couple discussed homicides, murderers, and evidence in their phone conversations.

Not feeling quite as much in that hole, he answered her. "Well, we've got two pretty good suspects, although I'm not sure which one I like more for it yet. That I've gotta wait on Abby for. The wife had a jealous ex-husband who desperately wanted to get back together with her after her parents recently died under tragic circumstances and left her a sizable insurance policy, but a close friend of hers said she wanted nothing to do with him, and he was getting angry. On top of that, the husband's drug abusing brother recently had moved in with them, would have known about the money, and could have used it to feed his addiction. Either one of them had motive."

"Yeah, but it sounds like the brother would have had more opportunity."

"Well, that's where it gets a little strange. The current husband didn't know she had been married before until the inheritance came about, and had unknowingly allowed her to hire her ex as a contractor to remodel their kitchen just weeks before that, so he had plenty of access to the house and opportunity as well. Like I said, waiting on Abby's results on processing the evidence. How's your case going? Or can you still not tell me anything?"

He knew the Sec Def had put a gag order on her and her team regarding the case due to the national security issue. Em had pleaded that Gibbs had security clearances due to his job at NCIS, but the Sec Def said they weren't high enough for this case. She was disappointed.

Talking to him about what was going on in her life, bouncing thoughts and theories regarding cases off of him, and generally venting frustrations had become natural and comforting to her. He knew she was utterly frustrated at the situation, only made worse by how long she had been away from home, in particular, away from him. He felt it too.

"I still can't give you details, but I think I can be vague enough to give you some good news. We got a break in the case today thanks to my amazing data analyst, Lily. Her information led us to a suspect I spent three hours in interrogation with this afternoon. After I rattled him up, I left Danny to take over. The guy finally requested a plea bargain in order to give up the rest of his cell. I don't like that, but it's in the hands of the AG now. I have no idea what he'll do. I thought we didn't negotiate with terrorists, but it seems we do when it suits our needs. Maybe it's for the best. I don't know." He could hear the frustration in her voice. "The good news is, this puts us close to coming home. If the plea deal goes through, he gives up the cell, we make the remaining arrests tomorrow, and I'm on the jet with the guys headed home in the evening. We'll be leaving the Dallas FBI Counterterrorism Unit to close up the remaining loose ends with the case. All the hard part will be over." She sounded so relieved, and Gibbs felt decidedly so himself at the thought of possibly seeing her tomorrow night.

"So will I see you tomorrow night if you make it in?" He didn't really want to beg, at least part of him didn't. The rest of him wanted to grovel and plead, as childish as it sounded. He missed her, all of her, her voice in person rather than over a cell phone, the scent of her, the feel of her in his arms, the warmth of her against his body, her smile, her eyes. He missed seeing her.

He could almost hear her smile through the phone as her voice came through. "Of course you will. I miss you, Jethro. I haven't seen you all week. I'm not usually gone more than a few days. It's cases like this that make me wonder why I love my job so much. Makes me wonder that ten times so now that I've got you. Listen though, I really need to get off of here. Danny, Brandon, Joe and I need to review the interrogation notes, make sure we didn't miss anything before we face this guy in the morning. I've gotta get a shower after that and get some sleep. I want an early start to the morning in hopes of hearing from the AG first thing."

Gibbs felt disappointed to have to let her go, but he knew she was right and he had left his dad sitting alone downstairs after being alone all day already. "Yeah, you probably should go." He paused for a moment before adding. "Hey Em, I really miss you and I love you. Can't wait till you're home."

"You know I miss you, Jethro, and I love you so much. I can't wait to see you." She sounded emotional, as if on the verge of tears. "I really should go now. I'll call you tomorrow when I know what's going on. Good night."

"Good night."

He flipped his phone closed and set it back on the nightstand, feeling sad to have to end the conversation, but better having had the chance to talk to her. It only took him a minute to pull himself together, throw on his clothes, and make his way back downstairs.

Jack was in the kitchen, the dining table cleared of all the take out boxes. He was getting the nightly glass of milk he always drank and had his back toward the entry to the room. "Took you long enough. I was beginning to think either you were avoiding me or you fell back on your bed, closed your eyes, and dozed off without meaning too." He turned around to face his son.

"No, neither of those, Dad. I have no reason to be avoiding you, and I wouldn't just go falling asleep like that. You've been home alone all day. Don't you think I'd at least spend a little time with you?" He didn't really wait for a response, half-afraid what his father would actually say to that. "Em called. I was just sitting on my bed talking to her. Seems she got a break in her case and may get to head home tomorrow night, if all goes well."

There was no effort to hide the sense of relief Jack experienced at the thought of Em returning home. "That's great, Leroy. Maybe we can finally get some home cooked food again. I've sure missed that girl."

Gibbs cracked a smile and laughed a bit. "Dad, is that the only reason you like my girlfriend? Because she cooks for you?"

"Son, that girlfriend of yours doesn't just cook. She cooks from scratch. Any woman who makes her own pasta dough, runs it through the press herself, and hangs it to dry so she can cook it fresh is a keeper in my book. And those yeast rolls she makes that melt in your mouth, and the baskets of giant muffins she bakes for us for breakfasts when she knows she can't be here, they're all great." Jack had been grinning, teasing his son about the reasons behind his fondness for Em, but the grin was replaced soon by a somber expression and his tone turned serious. "To be honest, I like her because she makes you happy. You smile with your whole face when you're around her." He paused, hesitant to say the words on his mind. "Leroy, I see the way you look at Em. I haven't seen that look in your eyes since Shannon was alive."

He hadn't told his dad how he felt about Em, hadn't mentioned that those same thoughts had run through his own head, hadn't even confessed to his father that he told Em he loved her.

Gibbs had never been good at talking to his dad about feelings, never been good at talking to him about much of anything. The deepest conversation they'd had was last Christmas when his father came to visit after an incident back home in Stillwater. A young man had come into Jack's store to rob him and his father shot and killed him in order to protect two young girls who were in his store at the time.

Turning his attention around to the basket of laundry sitting behind him and beginning to fold socks, pulling out some shirts that needed to be ironed, he felt his father's eyes piercing into his back.

"Leroy, are you gonna stand there pretending I didn't say a damn thing or you gonna say something?" his father asked quietly, knowing the conversation was, at best, painful for his son.

He kept at his task with the laundry. "What do you want me to say, Dad? I'm not blind to how I feel. I just don't talk about it."

"I'm not gonna think any less of you as a man if you do, son. I know you've been in pain since losing Shannon. I just don't want to see you miss out with Em on what you could have. You could make a new life with her. I know it wouldn't be the same, but it'd be a better life than sitting alone in your basement drinking bourbon."

There was nothing left in the laundry basket, nothing left to pretend to be busy doing. It would have been overkill to start ironing his shirts, and he knew that. He choked down a knot in his throat that threatened to suffocate him, his voice coming out thick, heavy with unseen emotion as he kept his back turned away from his father.

"I know," was all he could get out at first. He took in a deep ragged breath and swallowed hard. "I knew how she made me feel that first day, Dad. I knew I couldn't let her slip out of my hands. What do you think I've been trying to do for the past six weeks?"

A bit shocked at this confession from his usually stoic son, Jack took a moment to respond. "I don't know. I know you've been married three times since Shannon's death and dated other women as well. How am I supposed to know that you're not just gonna let Em become another mistake along your way? Does she know she reminds you of Shannon? That you feel the same about her?"

Gibbs felt anger rise up from the pit of his stomach. Clenching his fists, he turned on Jack, his voice raised, furious. "She does _not_ remind me of Shannon. She couldn't possibly. Shannon was a small town girl, lived in the country all her life before she married me, never went to college. She was satisfied to be a housewife and take care of Kelly. I loved her for all of that. Don't think that I thought any less of her for any of it, but Shannon and Em have nothing in common other than red hair and me." He took a breath, trying to calm himself. "Em is so different, not at all the type of woman I thought I'd fall for, opposite of Shannon in every way. She grew up just outside Boston in a million dollar house with a butler and a chauffeur to drive her to her expensive private prep school every day. She never had a single want in all her life. She's a Harvard graduate with an amazing career." He paused for a moment. "Shannon had never even held a gun in her hands or hurt anyone in her life. Em can fire a weapon just as well as I can and kill a full-grown man with her bare hands. Em couldn't be further from reminding me from Shannon."

Finally having calmed down, finished with the tirade he just let loose, he turned and walked slowly into the living room, taking a seat on one end of the couch, knowing his father would follow to finish the conversation and probably chastise him for yelling like he did.

Instead, Jack sat in the armchair and calmly asked, "Does Em know she makes you feel the way Shannon did?"

"Dad, I'd never say that to her. Do you really believe she wants to think that she's just a reminder of what I had with my dead wife? It's not like that anyway. It's different." He sought the right words to explain. "I mean, with both of them I knew I wanted to be with them almost as soon as I first saw them, but it's not the same. I'm older. I've changed. I'm not the same person I was when I met Shannon. The way I feel isn't the same." The way to say how it was different escaped him. "I can't explain it, Dad. I guess in some ways it's just more…more overwhelming because I didn't think I'd ever feel this way again."

"Well, have you told her how you do feel, son? You can't expect her to guess. Women need to hear these things, Leroy."

Gibbs finally looked at his dad, straight in the eye and told him the truth, straightforward and honest. "Yeah, Dad. About two weeks ago. I told her it means everything to me to be with her." He paused for just a second, his voice growing softer. "I told her that I love her."

Jack gave a big warm approving smile to his son, who smiled back, feeling relieved to have said it aloud to someone other than Em. It felt good to share it, better than he had expected it to.

"So what did she say? Was she surprised?"

"No, at least she didn't seem to be." He grinned as he remembered back to that night in the restaurant with the tiny twinkling lights pretending to be the stars in the sky. "She said she loved me too."


	12. Interventions & Interruptions

Chapter 12

"The problem is that every time we solve a case or have time to get him out he has the excuse that he needs to get home to his dad. We can't very well bring this up in front of his father and embarrass Jethro further," Ducky was explaining to the rest of the team all grouped around McGee's desk.

Abby cleared her throat loudly, gesturing towards the staircase leading to MTAC where she had just spotted Gibbs descending to the squad room. "Act natural, guys," she said quietly, then in a louder, more conversational voice she began the ruse. "I am so glad we wrapped that case up today, guys. How about we all head out for a drink? Anyone up for our usual corner table at O'Malley's?"

Everyone was expressing their interest in joining together for the drink and some much needed relaxation as Gibbs entered the squad room.

"Sounds like a great idea. You should all go ahead and get outta here. The case is all tied up. You can finish your reports in the morning if you're not done already," he said, eyeing a couple of reports neatly laid on his desk. "You all deserve the break."

Tony spoke up first. "Shouldn't our fearless leader join us? I mean, you are the one that broke that guy in interrogation and got the confession."

Stepping up to him and giving Gibbs a hug that only she could get away with, Abby insisted. "Come on, Gibbs. It's been forever since you went out with us. Jack will be okay for a couple of hours longer. You've got agents watching him, and, anyways, all week you've been going home much later than this so what difference will it make tonight? Please pretty please? For me, Gibbs?" She batted her big green eyes at him innocently.

_Oh, Jethro. You know Abby has you wrapped around her little finger._ He looked at his watch._ Em shouldn't be landing for at least another hour. Maybe one drink wouldn't kill you. You're just gonna sit impatiently at the house waiting for her to get home anyway, might as well blow some time at the bar with them._ He shrugged his shoulders, nodding his head in agreement. "Fine. But just one drink, then I'm going home. I can't leave my dad alone all night when I already leave him sitting alone in the house all day long."

Gibbs still wasn't sure he was ready to say anything to his team about Em. Part of him wanted to share his happiness with them, but the rest of him wanted to continue to keep his private life just as private as he always had.

The entire team seemed to him to be just a tad too excited that he was coming along, but then again, it had been a very long time since they had all been to O'Malley's together. It was something they had done in the past at least somewhat frequently, enough that they were known there.

Soon they were in the Irish pub just minutes away from the Navy Yard, which was never too busy, part of why they all liked it, and were scooting in around their corner booth to take their seats. Abby and Ziva always sat in the center with McGee and Tony on either side of them and Ducky and Gibbs on the ends.

Just as they were all settled in, Molly O'Malley strolled over to them, grinning from ear to ear. "Well, I haven't seen you folks in ages," came her husky voice with the thick Irish accent.

They all greeted the pleasant, matronly owner of the pub with the smattering of freckles across her weathered face and flaming red hair pulled tightly into a bun low at the back of her head. She always came to personally welcome them whenever they came and assured that they were served quickly, never letting a glass or bottle reach empty without a replacement at the ready, if so desired.

Her husband Liam gestured a welcome from his usual place behind the bar across the spacious room. He was always chatting up the patrons seated in the barstools, his thick lips ever moving, and his ruddy complexion was alit with excitement tonight as he spun some tale to a middle-aged man in casual attire, sipping on a mug of beer.

As soon as Molly had left the tableside with their drink orders, the conversation turned to the case they had just solved.

Abby was still exclaiming her frustration at the confusing evidence that presented no clarity to the identity of the murderer this time when McGee quickly assured her that she would have been able to figure it out if Gibbs hadn't extracted a confession from the brother first.

"I still can't believe it wasn't the ex-husband. I mean, I could have sworn it was him," Tony exclaimed.

Ziva laughed at him. "Tony, you always say that it is the ex-husband, ex-wife, ex-boyfriend, ex-girlfriend, the maid, the butler. I could go on, but you get the idea."

Tony began to retort but was cut off by McGee. "She's right, Tony. You always call it like that. I mean, not that you're never right, but I think you're always going for the cliché movie plot."

"I do not go for the cliché movie plot, McGee," Tony insisted.

"Yes, you do, Tony," Ziva agreed.

Before it turned into a real argument between the three agents, Molly was already back with their drinks. She passed them out around the table cheerfully. "Let me know if you need anything else, dears. I'll be around to check on you later." She bustled off to clear a table near the bar leaving them to their privacy with no other patrons seated in the booths nearby them.

Gibbs took a sip of his bourbon and suddenly felt the mood change at the table. He became painfully aware that they were all eyeing him nervously. He set he glass on the table and looked around at them. "What?"

Ducky cleared his throat, pursed his lips together tightly, glanced down at the glass of scotch in his hands, turning it around in his fingers, looked back up at Gibbs, and relaxed his mouth to speak. "Jethro, to be honest, we all wanted you to come with us tonight because we wished to speak to you." He paused to take a sip of his liquor. "We're all very concerned about you."

Feeling slightly angered that he believed he knew what this was about, Gibbs looked at Abby. They were the only two on the team who knew American Sign Language and often used it to speak privately when the others were around. _"Did you tell them about the report findings?"_ he signed.

Her mouth fell slightly agape at his accusation. "Gibbs!" she cried out then signed, _"Of course I did not. I would never share your secret with anyone. You know you can trust me."_

He looked at her warily. _"Then what is this about?"_

Abby looked as if she were about to cry. "Gibbs, we all love you so much. You know that don't you? You're like a father to us. You keep this family together. You know that, right?"

Gibbs was completely confused. "Abbs, I know. I may not say it out loud the way you do, but I do know. Trust me. Now would you mind telling me what this is all about?"

Once again, Ducky spoke to him as it seemed Abby were too emotional and the other three were far too afraid to start this 'intervention' as Ducky had called it. "Jethro, we're all concerned for your well-being. We know you've been under a lot of stress, and that can take its toll on anyone and can make some people do crazy things."

Ducky had paused briefly to try to think how to continue, but Gibbs stopped him short. "Would you just spit it out already? What in the hell are you trying to say, Duck?" Just then, his phone chirped its familiar ring. "Hold that thought." He grabbed his phone off his belt, saw the Caller ID and smiled as he flipped it opened to answer. "Hey there. Where are you?"

"We just landed ahead of schedule. I was thinking I'd come straight over. Do you mind?" Em's voice came through the earpiece.

"Of course not. I was hoping you would," he replied, looking up as he realized everyone at the table was staring at him.

"Did you get your case solved?"

"Yep." He turned in his seat, facing away from the team.

"I gave my team the weekend off unless we get a call out. How about you?"

"I could do that, I suppose." He could still feel their eyes boring holes into his back.

"Could I stay tonight?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

She giggled softly. "I guess not. So, would I have to ask to spend the whole weekend with you?"

"Of course not." The eyes on his back were piercing further into him by the moment.

"I'll meet you there then?"

"Meet you there." He heard the click of the line go dead as she hung up and flipped his own phone closed, turning around to the team. "Well, I've gotta go. I was thinking, we've had a busy week so why don't you all take the weekend off unless we get a call out. Otherwise, I'll see you first thing Monday morning."

Gibbs stood up to leave, reaching for his wallet as he did so, removing a bill, and tossing it on the table next to his barely touched bourbon.

"Boss, we just got here. You can't leave yet," Tony declared.

"Tony's right, Gibbs. I mean, you promised one drink, and you haven't finished your drink yet," Abby cried out with a pout crossing her black lips.

"Abbs, I've gotta go. That was an important call. I've gotta meet someone." He hoped they wouldn't ask too many questions.

Ziva was the only one with the nerve to call him on it. "Who was it, Gibbs?"

"A friend. A very close friend." He stated very matter-of-factly, giving her a stern 'don't question me' glare.

She stared him down, determination in her eyes. She was sure it was the escort he had been with weeks before. "Anyone we know?"

"No, it's not." He wasn't standing any more of her questions or the questioning stares from the rest of his team. "Now, if you don't mind… hell, even if you do, I'm leaving. I'll see you all Monday." With that, he turned and stalked off out of the bar not even bothering to wave good-bye to Molly or Liam as he threw the door open and walked out into the night.

McGee looked around at everyone sitting there stunned at Gibbs' manner of departure. "Do you think that was her? You know, on the phone. Do you think that was the call girl he's seeing?"

"I'm afraid so, Timothy," replied Ducky. "It sounded as if he were making plans to meet her somewhere for the night. I suppose he's not quite as concerned about his father being alone as he tells us. We may have to confront him at home, even if it is in front of Jackson, as much as that displeases me. Now that we've made this attempt and failed, he's not likely going to let us corner him out like this again."

Everyone agreed with Ducky. Gibbs was no idiot. Now that he knew they had been plotting to get him out only to confront him about something, he would be wary of letting that happen again. It appeared the only option left was to confront him at home in front of his father, it would be certain to embarrass Gibbs, but they were left with no choice. The discussion turned to how and when they should go about approaching Gibbs.


	13. Sweethearts & Bathwater

Chapter 13

Gibbs was angry at his team as he left the pub and got in his car to leave, but shook it off quickly in favor of a sense of relief that he would soon be seeing Em and holding her in his arms once again after a very long week apart. He could save the fuming for Monday at the office when he saw the rest of them, but refused to waste a moment of his precious time with her.

Hitting very little in the way of traffic on his way home, he made great time getting there, and knew it would not be long before she would be arriving. A DOD car would have been waiting at the airport to pick up her and the guys and return them to the Pentagon where they could pick up their personal vehicles. It wasn't that far of a drive to Gibbs' house from there.

Quickly jogging across the yard from his car and hopping up the front steps, he entered the house, seeking out his dad, and finding him in the armchair watching television.

"Hey, Dad. Good news. Em's on her way here tonight. She's spending the weekend with us." He was grinning with excitement and anticipation, his heart racing in his chest. _Oh, God, she's been gone too long, Jethro. How have you made it through this week? You'd better pull yourself together before you drag her upstairs and attack her on the bed the second she walks through the door._ His eyes twinkled at the mischievous thought. "She called and said they'd just landed. Once she gets back to the Pentagon to get her car she'll be heading right over here. I'm just gonna go up and change real quick."

Jack was quite apparently happy with the news that Em would be around for the whole weekend, but was too busy watching the silent flood of emotions flashing across his son's face to say anything before that.

"Glad to hear she's coming home," he hollered out as Gibbs energetically bound up the staircase taking the steps two at a time.

Once in his bedroom, Jethro stripped out of the clothes he had spent all day in and searched through his dresser for the right thing to wear to welcome Em back. Finally settling on a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a solid blue pocket tee, he redressed and headed into the small master bathroom to freshen up a bit. He ran a comb through his silver hair, brushed his teeth, gargled with some Listerine, and debated on throwing on some aftershave for good measure but managed to restrain himself.

Looking up at himself in the mirror, he realized that he had a dopey grin on his face and could feel his heart hammering in his chest with excitement. _You're acting like a kid at Christmas, Jethro. Pull yourself together. She's only been gone a week._ He pictured her face, her eyes, her lips, the curve of her cheek, the soft line of her jaw, her full warm lips he longed to feel against his again. _A week is too long to be away from the woman you love. You should be excited. You've missed her, and now she's coming home._

He left the bathroom, returning to his room to pick up the mess of clothes he had left everywhere before, and felt comfortable with the almost giddy sense of excitement taking over him. Now that his father knew how he really felt about Em, there was no need to hide it in the safety of his own home. So long as no one at work caught him acting like this, he was free to be as in love with Em as he wanted to be.

Soon, the dirty clothes had been dealt with, he had pulled on some socks and comfortable sneakers, and was down the stairs returning to the living room, his father still watching television.

"Did you lay out anything to defrost for dinner, Dad?" he asked.

Jack turned to look at his son as Gibbs came around into view. "Leroy, we haven't been to the store for two weeks, you've been so busy at work. There's nothing left in there. As much as I hate it, unless you run to the store, it's take out again tonight."

Gibbs definitely did not want to go to the store and possibly miss Em's arrival, but he hated to order take out knowing she had likely lived on fast food and take out the entire past week while investigating the case. "I doubt Em ate on the trip home, but I'll see what she wants to do when she gets here. I should probably go make coffee."

Knowing Em as he did, he was well aware of her predilection for late night coffee. Amazingly, the caffeine seemed to have no ill effects on her, and she could go right to sleep even after drinking half a pot of her favorite strong black coffee. She joked it was because her blood was more than half coffee already. He wasn't one for sleeping much anyway, so it never bothered him to share in it with her at night.

Shortly after the percolating began and the warm scent of awaiting java hit the air in the kitchen, Gibbs heard a car honk out in front of his house.

Without even thinking, he found himself running for the front door, Jack letting out a snort of laughter as he flew through the living room to the small foyer. He put his hand on the door handle, took in a deep breath in an attempt to settle his racing heart and rapid breathing then opened the door to see Em's Explorer parked out front. She was at the back with the tailgate popped open, retrieving her suitcase.

He made his way quickly down the front steps and across the lawn to her, taking the luggage from her hands and setting it on the sidewalk with ease before closing the tailgate.

"Thanks, sweetheart," she said as he did so, and turned to him, a mixed expression of relief, excitement, and exhaustion shown on her face under the streetlights.

"Hm, so all I have to do is get your suitcase for you, and you'll call me sweetheart? I could get used to that." He smiled at her, reaching his hands up to her cheeks, holding her face gently as he leaned in and touched his lips to hers tenderly before pulling back merely inches from her and whispering, "Welcome home."

"I like the sound of that, 'home'."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him back into a kiss with more passion this time. Her lips slightly parted giving his tongue access to dance with hers, longing desire burning as his hands moved from her cheeks to her hair, entangling his fingers in the soft waves and pulling her deeply into the kiss as he stepped closer, pressing his body to hers.

Just as Gibbs was sliding one hand down to wrap around her waist, Em's stomach growled loudly. He released her from their kiss and rested his forehead against hers.

"I take it you haven't eaten yet."

She smiled sheepishly. "Not really. I had a cheese Danish and coffee on the plane, but aside from that, I haven't eaten since lunch. We were just so busy, and I was anxious to get back to you. I sort of forgot to eat dinner before flying out or even to grab something to eat on the ride back."

"That's all right," he said as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and began leading her toward the house, picking up her suitcase with his free hand on the way. "I'll take care getting you fed. There's nothing in the house, but we'll figure out something. First things first though, Dad's missed you too and I bet he wants to see you. Let's get you and your stuff inside and go from there." He planted a kiss on the side of her head. "I'm so glad you're home, Em. I love you."

"I love you too, Jethro, and I'm glad to be home." She leaned into him, an arm reaching around his waist, her thumb hanging in a belt loop of his shorts.

She'd always thought of home as being her house, the address listed on her driver's license, the location her mail was delivered. The way Jethro said 'welcome home' and 'glad you're home' when, in the literal sense, she was at his home, made her realize that _home_ to her was no longer a structure so much as it was Jethro himself. Coming back to him was really coming home.

Inside she heard the television being shut off as they came through the door and saw Jack rising from the armchair to greet her as they entered the living room.

Jethro gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "I'm just gonna run this upstairs while Dad welcomes you back," and he took off up the stairs with her suitcase.

"Jack, has he been feeding you while I've been away?" she asked teasingly as she crossed the distance between them and threw her arms around the elder man. "I missed you. Just don't tell Jethro, might make him jealous." She laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

He didn't hesitate to accept the hug and return it in kind. "I missed you too, Em. Leroy didn't feed me the way you would have, but we managed on mostly take out. I can't say I'd be disappointed if I never see another box of Chinese food again."

Gibbs returned downstairs to see the two of them still in a loose embrace. "Dad, I go upstairs for two minutes and you go making moves on my girl?" he cried out jokingly.

They all three laughed, before Em declared, "Perhaps I decided I wanted the original Gibbs. Whatever would you do, Jethro?"

He grabbed her by the waist, wrapping his arms around her, pressing her body tightly against his own, looking deep into her eyes. "Well…" He kissed one cheek. "I'd pick you up." He kissed her other cheek. "I'd carry you upstairs." He kissed one ear. "I'd lay you on my bed." He kissed her other ear. "I'd take off all your clothes." He kissed one side of her neck. Then in a low growl, he said, "And I'd make love to you." He kissed the other side of her neck very slowly. "Until you finally remembered that you love me."

Jethro slid one hand up to the back of her head, gripping her hair as he ran his tongue over her lips before biting her lower lip, sucking on it for just a few seconds then plunging into an intensely passionate kiss. She returned the kiss, throwing her arms around him and running her fingers through his hair, pulling herself into his hold.

Finally releasing their lips when the need for air became greater than the need for each other, Em smiled at him sweetly. "You know you never have to worry. I'd never want anyone but you, Jethro. I'll never love anyone else but you."

He felt his heart leap at her words, words he wanted desperately to believe. _Could she really, Jethro? You've managed not to ruin things for a whole six weeks. What about in six months? How about in six years? Will you break her heart and make her hate you?_ "Em, how can you know that? I make mistakes. I don't say the right things. What if I break your heart and make you hate me because I do something stupid? What if…"

She reached up and kissed him ever so softly on the lips to quiet him. Her eyes met his in that way that always made him stop breathing. "You won't. I trust you, Jethro. When you say you love me, you say it like you mean it, it's in your eyes, in the way you touch me, even in your voice. You just have to believe in yourself as much as I do. We aren't a mistake. We aren't going to be one either."

The words she spoke took a moment to sink into him. He took in a deep breath thinking it through. _Do you love her enough to do it right this time? Can you hold onto her and never let go, never push her away? You know you love her more than anything. Of course, you can love her enough to do this right and hold onto her._ He looked into her shimmering deep apple-green eyes, and knowing his father was overhearing their conversation, confessed, "Em, I love you more than I thought I was capable of ever loving again. Ever since that first day we spent together, I've been changed, and I can't imagine my life without you now." He bent down to kiss her gently. "I'll never leave you. I love you, maybe even more than you realize, more than I can put into words."

Em pulled him into a big hug and he kissed her once again, both of their eyes stinging with tears of joy they were fighting to hold back knowing what the words they had just spoken to each other really meant. They were making a promise to each other, a promise for a future together.

"Not to interrupt this endearing moment, but are we having dinner tonight?" asked Jack.

Jethro and Em both laughed and turned to him. "I'm with him, Jethro. We need to eat. I am so starving," she proclaimed.

"Okay, okay. What do you want to eat?" Gibbs asked.

She smiled at him. "What are my choices?"

"Well, since there's nothing here, you can pretty much choose anything because we have to go get it anyway. Tomorrow we'll go grocery shopping after breakfast. I think there's enough cereal and milk to do for that," he replied apologetically, knowing she would never let her cabinets get so bare and her freezer stayed well stocked.

After some discussion of what they had all been eating over the past week, as she wanted to avoid too much repetition, Em finally chose pizza, which Gibbs called to order and the two of them planned to go pick up.

Fifteen minutes later, Gibbs' canary yellow car with its black bonnet striping was backing out of the driveway, the radio playing quietly in the background, neither of them really listening to it, her hand in his across the center console. He tugged her towards him, encouraging her to lean into his side, letting him wrap his arm around her as they cruised down the street.

It didn't take long before they were heading back to Gibbs' house with two pizza boxes in the backseat, the enticing, mouth-watering smell wafting throughout the car.

Em was starving by this point and trying to focus on Jethro rather than her rumbling stomach. She was torn between her desire for the delicious smelling pizza in the backseat and the equally delicious smelling man whose arm was holding her closely as she snuggled into his side, head on his broad shoulder. Common sense told her the need for food would have to win out this internal argument. There was plenty of time tonight for Jethro still.

Dinner conversation was light as they devoured the majority of two large pizzas, one pepperoni and one Em's favorite, bacon. Usually they would have been discussing the case she had just returned from solving, but due to the national security issue surrounding this one, nothing could be shared. Jethro was still frustrated with this, but Jack just didn't understand what all the fuss was about.

"I still don't get why you can't talk about it now that it's all over. Even if you couldn't while you were investigating it, what's the big deal now? It's done with," he was saying once again.

Em tried to be patient with him, knowing the rules of the DOD were often difficult for many people to understand. "It's not about it being over now. I honestly believe that if the general public were to know the threat that was out there it would cause mass panic. This was just one of those things. You really don't want to know what I was dealing with this past week. It would make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up."

Gibbs heart dropped to his stomach again as he recalled the thoughts he had just the day before. _What if one day she doesn't make it back home? How could you go on without her? You barely survived losing Shannon and Kelly. There's no way you could take that kind of loss again._ He didn't feel hungry anymore. All he wanted was to take her upstairs and be alone with her, hold her in his arms, feel her body against his.

He changed the subject. "You two done with this," he said, gesturing to the slices left in the boxes.

"Definitely, sweetheart," she replied, to which he grinned at and leaned in to give her a kiss. "I couldn't possibly stuff myself with another slice of bacon pizza, as much as I love it." She gulped down the remaining coffee in her mug, getting up to head to the kitchen for a refill. Enough time spent at Jethro's house had relaxed her into less of a role as a guest and more one of part of their little family.

His dad indicating he'd had his fill as well, Gibbs combined all the remaining slices into one box and carried it in to stick in the fridge. "I suppose cold pizza is an option for breakfast rather than cereal," he laughed.

"Yum, cold pizza and beer. I could feel like I was in college again, Jethro," she commented, taking a sip of her refilled coffee.

"Ha, if you were in college, we wouldn't be standing her in my kitchen like this. I don't date that young."

Em laughed. "So I suppose that means I don't have to worry about some young thing catching your eye and you running off in some late mid-life crisis?" she said jokingly.

Gibbs stepped over to her, taking her mug from her hands, placing it on the countertop, and wrapped her up in a loose embrace, looking down into her eyes. "Em, you already _look_ twenty-eight. Exactly how young do you think I would go for? You're the woman I love. Age has nothing to do with it. You're perfect just the way you are." He leaned down to meet his lips to hers for a moment. "Now, how about you finish that coffee so we can go upstairs for the night?"

Smiling up at him, she reached back for her mug and began drinking it more quickly, taking a break only to say, "I'll be done as soon as possible. Why don't you go run a bath for us?"

"Ooh, for _us_? I like your thinking. Meet you upstairs then?"

She nodded in agreement, still sucking down her hot coffee. He kissed her forehead and left the kitchen, saying something to Jack as he passed through the dining room then quickly made his way up the staircase, spurred on by thoughts of her naked body leaning back against his own, her hair wet and curly, and feel of her smooth soft skin as he lathered up every inch of her.

He knew the night would end with her in nothing but a towel, him slowly removing it, laying her back on the bed and making love to her, tenderly, intimately, the right way to convey everything he felt so deeply for her. The remainder of the night they would sleep, bodies molded against each other, his arms wound around her body, holding onto her as if she might disappear if he let go, his face buried in her hair, breathing in her ever-present scent of lavender shampoo because she now kept a bottle of it at his house.

_She's home. She loves you. You love her. What more could you possibly want?_ Deep down he knew the answer to that, but he wouldn't let himself think it. Before it could surface, Em stepped into the bathroom where he was sitting on the edge of the tub, water running, and began slowly unbuttoning her shirt.


	14. Cold Pizza & Decorative Pillows

Chapter 14

Gibbs, who always woke at five every morning, no alarm clock necessary, found himself opening his eyes to the sight of bright sunlight filtering through the single window of his bedroom. He read his watch to find that it was almost nine already. He'd never slept that late before. The rustling movements of the sheets brought his attention to the bed.

Lying tangled up in the sheets her back against his chest, Em was still sleeping. She was also usually an early riser. He knew she had been overworked on this last case and was likely running on little sleep and even more coffee than usual. He reached his arm back around her, pulling her closer against him, hearing a small contented sigh escape from her before he laid his head back down on his pillow satisfied the planet would not stop spinning if he did not get out of bed quite yet.

His thoughts ran backwards to the previous night. Just as he had expected, the hot bath led to making love, which he performed with the intended deeply expressive intimacy. Unexpectedly, the tenderness of it only served to heighten their pleasure, in turn, increasing their desire for one another and eventually leading to a second more intensely passionate love making that had kept them up far later into the night than planned.

Feeling relaxed and peaceful, he realized this was the first morning they had really had to spend together. They had spent nights together before, but with their crazy work schedules, constant weekend call outs, and the Reynosa manhunt, the following mornings had always been busy. Usually one or both of them had to jump right out of bed to dress and run off to the office, investigate a crime scene, or, in her case, hop on a Gulfstream jet to chase terrorists.

Her soft sleepy voice brought him out of his thoughts. "What time is it?" she asked as she rolled over, burying her face into his chest, not fully awake.

"About nine. Go ahead and sleep. There's no need to get up." He kissed her head and stroked her hair for a moment before reaching around her and pulling her closer to him.

She was breathing slowly and evenly so he thought she had fallen back to sleep when her voice floated up to his ears, muffled by her mouth's nearness to his chest. "I'm probably driving you crazy. Go ahead and get up. I'll get up soon. I promise."

"No, it's fine. I'm enjoying this. We never get mornings like this. Just go back to sleep. Sleep as long as you want. I'm not going anywhere." He rested his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes, not to sleep, but just to capture the moment.

It didn't last much longer before she finally became restless, waking up and declaring she had been in bed long enough. He had rolled over and managed to pin her down for a few minutes, kissing her into submission before he realized he was quite hungry and agreed to get out of bed.

Soon they were showered and dressed with teeth brushed, Gibbs freshly shaven, making the bed before going downstairs.

"We still going to the store after breakfast?" asked Em as she attempted to fluff up the pathetically flat pillow she had slept on.

Eyeing her actions, he replied, "Unless you either don't plan on eating all weekend or just wanna live on takeout, we kinda have to." Noticing the look of frustration on her face as she finally gave up and threw the pillow back on the bed he continued. "You know, it's really not fair that you have to sleep like this when you're here. I was thinking maybe while we were out we could shop for some new pillows, maybe some new sheets and stuff, something nicer than what I've got. I mean, sleeping at your place is like sleeping in some luxury hotel. It's a little unfair, don't you think?"

That earned a wide smile and brightening of her green eyes. "You really mean that, Jethro?" When he nodded with a grin she came around the bed, throwing her arms around his neck and exclaiming, "I think that's the most romantic gesture. You can be so sweet," and reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

"Well, I'm glad you think so, but really I just thought I was being sensible about the fairness of it all."

"Whatever you want to call it, I call it romantically sweet, Jethro. Do you think Jack is going to mind being dragged all over the place shopping though?" she asked, relaxing her hold around his neck.

Gibbs sort of laughed and rolled his eyes. "I don't think Dad plans on going anywhere with us today. He knows we need some time alone. Anyway, he started on a woodworking project in the basement to occupy his time. I doubt he'll mind if we're gone for a couple of hours."

They finally made it downstairs to find Jack sitting at the dining table reading the Saturday morning newspaper.

"Good morning, you two. Sleep well?" he queried, glancing up from the sports page.

Em couldn't help from grinning and slipping out a quiet giggle as she thought about last night's events before they finally did fall asleep. "Oh yes, I definitely slept very well. I can't believe Jethro let me sleep so late though."

Gibbs responded, "In my defense, I actually didn't wake up until almost nine myself surprisingly, and after that I just didn't want to get up with you lying there in my bed like that. I was too comfortable."

Ignoring this, Jack turned their attention to breakfast. "I would think the two of you would be pretty hungry by now. There's coffee still in the pot and little over half a box of cereal in the cabinet. Milk's in the fridge."

They made their way to the kitchen, getting mugs of hot coffee poured right away. Gibbs reached in the cabinet for bowls and the cereal box before opening a drawer and taking out two spoons.

"None for me. Thanks," she said when she noticed the two bowls and spoons in his hands as she stood sipping her coffee and leaning against the counter.

He gave her a questioning look. "Then what are you gonna eat?"

She walked over to the fridge, took out the milk, handing it to Jethro, and removed the pizza box. "Cold pizza," she replied.

"Are you serious?" He gave her an incredulous stare as he stood there. "You're not really having pizza and beer for breakfast, are you?"

"Well, not the beer part. I was thinking cold pizza and hot coffee." She gave him an impish grin as she laid the box on the countertop, lifted the lid, took out a slice, and bit into it. "Yummy."

He looked slightly amused as she opened a cabinet, got out a plate, placing her bitten slice and an additional slice on it before closing the box and returning it to the fridge. Giving up, he put the second bowl and spoon away then followed her to the dining room.

After they took their seats at the table, Jack set the paper aside and noticed Em's choice of breakfast. "Leroy, there's plenty of cereal in that box to share with her. Why would you make her eat that?"

Gibbs shrugged his shoulders as he shook his head. "I had nothing to do with it. Ask her why she's eating it."

She laughed at both of them. "It's breakfast college-style."

Jack raised an eyebrow but changed the subject to the heat wave they were experiencing leaving them each to eat their breakfasts, regardless of how strange one of them seemed to be.

Having both been extremely hungry, it didn't take long to finish eating. Gibbs surprised himself by polishing off three bowls of cereal, emptying the box. His excuse to Jack was not having eaten enough at dinner last night, but he and Em both knew it was the calories burned after they went up to bed that had increased his appetite this morning.

"So, do you want to head out to do the shopping we talked about after we finish this up?" Jethro asked Em as he washed a coffee mug, handing it to her to dry when it was rinsed.

"That sounds great. If you don't mind though, I really need to start a load of laundry before we go," she replied, drying the mug and placing it in the cabinet.

Handing over his now clean cereal bowl, he responded. "I don't mind. You've been living out of a suitcase for a week. What's mine is yours. Feel free to use the washer, dryer, and iron as much as you need. I also have a great dry cleaner with 24 hour service who's open on Sundays if you need."

"Perfect. If I'm staying here till Monday I need clean work clothes. We'll need to stop off at the dry cleaner first thing on our way out." She smiled up at him as she dried off the last of the dishes.

Gibbs had drained the water out of the sink, dried his hands off with a paper towel, and was wiping up some water spilled over onto the countertop. He was glad she was comfortable staying with him despite that her own house was far better in many ways. It was newer, more spacious, far off the street, surrounded by trees and privacy. He could think of many reasons why it would really make more sense for her to want him to stay with her rather than be here.

In the center of her bedroom stood a knotty pine king size bed with a pillow top mattress, expensive high thread count sheets, and luxurious pillows, far different from his plain old queen size bed with its simple headboard, inexpensive mattress, and cheap pillows. Her master bath was huge with separate oversized shower and Jacuzzi tub along with double vanity sinks. His small master bath with the single sink and cast iron claw foot tub and shower combo couldn't compare.

Somehow, to his amazement, she never complained. Em would gladly stay with him just as happily as she would have him stay with her.

As she hung up the towel, all the dishes dried and put away, he pulled her into his arms, hugging her and giving her an endearing kiss. "Thank you," he said sweetly.

"You're welcome. It's really no big deal to help with the few dishes there were," she replied, sliding her hands up his muscular arms, across his broad shoulders, and running her fingers through his short silver hair, stretching up to kiss him again.

Once their lips parted, he looked down at her and replied, "That's not exactly what I meant. I just meant, thank you for everything. You know, for everything you do, for how you are with my dad, for how you put up with me." He suddenly felt awkward for thanking her, knowing that if she really loved him she would do those things anyway, but he still thought he should have said it. It just seemed like the right thing to say.

"Oh, Jethro, what am I going to do with you? I love you. I don't simply 'put up with you'. I want to be with you. Sometimes you can be so brooding about yourself. Now come on. I need to get a load of clothes in the washer, gather up a bunch of stuff for the dry cleaner's, and we should get going." She kissed him on the cheek and started pulling him out of the kitchen.

It didn't take long for her to have things done and for them to be ready to leave. Gibbs spoke to the agents posted outside the house briefly, checking in as he often did before leaving. Jack told them he had plans to watch a bit of TV and then work on his project in the basement for a while, taking a break to warm up a slice or two of leftover pizza for lunch. Em promised him she would cook something delicious for dinner.

After dropping everything off at the dry cleaner's they both needed done for the coming week and climbing back into Gibbs' car, he turned to her to ask, "Where to now? As you can probably tell, I don't shop for pillows and bedding stuff much so I'll go wherever you want."

Without hesitation, she answered, "Bed, Bath, and Beyond."

"Oddly enough, I know where that is."

"That actually doesn't surprise me since it's right next to a Home Depot," she retorted with a snicker.

He laughed. "That could have something to do with it, Em." He revved up the engine, merged into traffic, and headed off to do the kind of shopping he'd usually dread. _Either you're just really in love with her or you've become extremely soft suddenly in your old age, Jethro. None of your ex-wives would have ever gotten you one foot into a Bed, Bath, and Beyond._

More than an hour spent in the store shopping for what seemed to him a very simple thing, pillows and sheets, had him getting slightly irritable, but through sheer determination and willpower he managed to pleasantly reply when asked for his opinion and not just grab the first thing Em showed any interest in and run for the cashier.

In the end, they walked out with bags upon bags full of bedding he didn't know he needed and a rather large dent in his credit card because he refused to let her pay for it.

Gibbs now unwittingly owned 1200 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, a bed skirt, four pillows costing a hundred dollars each, several decorative pillows, a lightweight blanket, and curtains, all in coordinating colors to match the blue and green plaid patterned comforter purchased as well. He wasn't sure it would all fit in the back of his car.

As they were driving to the café they planned to have lunch at, Em noticed he was quiet. "Jethro, you're not mad at me are you?"

"No, of course not. Why would I be?" he replied.

She was unconvinced. "Well, you were pretty quiet in the store and you've stayed that way since we left. What's bothering you?"

_You're stubborn and set in your ways. You say one thing, but do another. This morning you tell her you want to do this, you want her to be more comfortable at your house. Now that she's making her mark on your home, suddenly you aren't so sure. What's your problem? Do you really love her? Are you ready to open up your life to her?_ "It's just been a long time since I shared my personal space with a woman. I'm still getting used to it. Letting you keep a toothbrush and shampoo in my bathroom was a big step for me then before long I'd made room for you in my dresser and you had clothes hanging in my closet. Jumping to you completely redecorating my bedroom is kind of feeling a bit overwhelming."

Em was a little surprised, but understood what he meant. It had taken her nine years to even date someone after losing Ben. She knew how hard adjusting could be. Scooting over as close to Jethro as she could get and leaning against him until he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her tightly to him, she finally responded. "I understand, and if it's too much we can return whatever you don't want. I just appreciate that you think enough of me being in your life to want me to feel comfortable in your home."

He was relieved she wasn't angry and didn't sound hurt. "No, we don't have to take any of it back. I do like it, it'll just take some getting used to," he lied. He really hated the decorative pillows but for her he'd try to ignore them. When she wasn't there he could always toss them in the corner.

They neared the café, parking along the street just a block away since it was so busy. Walking down the street, Gibbs arm around Em, talking about the long list of things to be gotten at the supermarket after they ate lunch, neither of them noticed the thirty-something man watching them from across the street.

Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he zoomed in on the couple walking down the street and captured a photo. In the bright light of the midday sun, his iPhone took a pretty clear picture.

The attractive young redheaded woman in the short white sundress stood out in stark contrast to the rugged silver-haired man clad in khaki shorts and a dark short-sleeve casual button down. He snapped a few others as he watched them, capturing a final one of them embracing and kissing.

He saved the pictures to his phone then sent one in a message to one of his contacts.

"_Is this her? They're heading to a café in downtown Alexandria right now."_ He pressed send, hoping to get a response soon.

Within minutes, his phone signaled a text message. _"Yes. Back off. Ducky said to wait till we're all together."_

McGee returned to his car, calling Ducky to report what he saw once he got in.


	15. Crime Scenes & Catholic Saints

Chapter 15

Gibbs sat at his desk rubbing his furrowed brow in frustration. They seemed to be getting nowhere. All he could do was wait, wait on Ducky's autopsy, wait on Abby to process evidence, wait on McGee to sift through the victim's electronic trail searching for anything unusual, wait on Tony and Ziva to return from interviewing the victim's CO, just sit and wait. At this point, he didn't even know how much of a 'victim' their victim really was.

"Gear up! Dead Marine at Quantico's base housing. Explosion. Bomb squad's on the scene now checking it out. McGee, you're with me," Gibbs had barked out in his typical military fashion nearly as soon as their day had begun.

Arriving at the crime scene they were surprised by HAZMAT trucks parked in front of the house. Gibbs immediately went to find out who was in charge and what the hell was going on. Somebody else had control of _his_ crime scene, and he didn't like it.

Eventually he was able to find someone who could give him a sit rep and then relayed the information to his own team as they waited for HAZMAT to clear the scene for them to process.

The bomb squad found no more explosives in the house, although there was plenty of bomb making equipment. When they checked the basement they stumbled across what they first believed to be a meth lab, but upon further inspection, weren't sure what it was. That's when they decided HAZMAT should be called in.

Gibbs had just sent McGee out on a coffee run, not knowing how much longer they would be waiting, when the head of the HAZMAT team gave the all clear for NCIS to begin their work. Trace amounts of radiation were found in the basement as well as the garage, but whatever had been there to contaminate those areas had already been removed.

"Hey, Boss, Sergeant Abild's CO had plenty to say about him," Tony declared as he and Ziva returned to the squad room.

"Well out with it, DiNozzo," Gibbs snapped, getting progressively more irritated through the day with the lack of substantiated theories on this particular case.

Ziva stepped in front of Tony and cut him off before he could speak. "It seems our Marine Sergeant converted to Islam about six months ago. At the time, there were no problems, but over the past three or four months he has been reprimanded seven times for 'conduct unbecoming' for numerous incidents of Islamic extremist hate speech. We were able to speak to several men his CO said he was closest with, but they all said that over the past few months he had become withdrawn. One even suspected that he was involved with a terrorist related mosque, but could not give us any idea where that might be."

Gibbs glared at no one in particular. "So our 'victim' might be a homegrown terrorist. Great." Just then, his phone gave a chirping ring, and he snatched it off his belt clip. "Yeah, Gibbs… Be right down, Abbs." He flipped his phone closed, feet already carrying him toward the elevator to Abby's lab.

Down in the lab he could hear the music blaring as Abby stood in front of her computer monitor, examining something that looked like a photo of two people on the screen. Gibbs couldn't make out who it was a picture of from across the room and she closed the window containing it before he silently crossed the room, coming up directly behind her saying, "What do you got for me, Abbs?"

The distracted Goth forensic scientist jumped, turning around and playfully punching him in the shoulder. "Gibbs, don't scare me like that. I didn't hear you come in."

He picked up the remote to the stereo off the workstation, turning down the music, and replied, "It's no wonder. You're going deaf listening to that. Now, what do you got for me?"

She picked up a small black square box up from next to her monitor and handed it to him. "First I have this. Open it."

Giving her a quizzical look, but trusting his favorite lab rat, he lifted the lid and peeked inside. "What is it, Abbs?"

Abby reached in the box and pulled out a thick silver men's chain with a medallion hanging from it. "It's a St. Rita's medallion, Gibbs. Put it on."

"Abby, I don't wear necklaces. And anyway, why do I want a St. Rita's medallion?" he inquired, stepping back as she attempted to put it on him herself.

"Please, Gibbs, just put it on for me. You can tuck it in beneath your undershirt and nobody will even see it. And don't tell me you don't wear necklaces. You used to wear dog tags as a Marine. Those are just military necklaces if you ask me," she argued.

Figuring he was never going to get any evidence results from her if he didn't just put on the damn necklace, he gave in. "Fine, I'll wear it, but why do I need it?" Gibbs knew Abby was Catholic just as he was, or had been before Shannon and Kelly's deaths, so he was aware that St. Rita had to be some patron saint of something that Abby felt was important for him.

Once she was satisfied that the chain was securely hanging around his neck with the medallion tucked under his white shirt, she finally told him. "St. Rita is the patron saint of the lonely, Gibbs." Her voice cracked and he felt sure she was about to cry when she reached out and gave him one of her big special hugs. "I just thought you could use it," she said, her voice thick and heavy with emotion.

He hugged her back and kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Abbs. I'm not sure why you think I need it, but thanks anyways." He released his hold on her and gently pried her arms off him, taking a step back and looking her in the eyes. "Abbs, I'm wearing the necklace. Now can we get focused on the case? I need to know what you've found."

"Right, Gibbs." She turned to her computer and began tapping at the keyboard yammering on about the radiation in a manner that he wasn't exactly following.

"Abbs," he said sternly.

"Oh, right. The point is, what you found was trace amounts of enriched Uranium which is very hard to get your hands on, desired by terrorists for its use in a nuclear device, and most of all _very_ bad news, Gibbs. If the trace amounts you found were an indicator that there's more out there on the loose, we've got trouble."

He leaned over, kissed her on the cheek, and said, "Good work, Abbs," as he began to walk out of the lab.

"But wait, Gibbs, I've got more for you!" she exclaimed.

"More gifts or more evidence," he queried, turning on his heel to look at his Goth friend.

"More evidence." She stepped over to him, took him by the arm, and walked him back to her computer where she tapped a few more keys and brought up a strange image Gibbs couldn't decipher.

"What am I looking at, Abbs?"

"Anthrax spores, Gibbs," she said in a nearly chipper voice that seemed all wrong to him given the words.

"Anthrax?" he repeated with surprise and frustration.

"Yep. Thankfully, the explosion killed them. I did follow protocol and sent a sample to the CDC though. Anyway, our victim's basement chemistry lab had trace amounts of aerosolized Anthrax spores in it," she replied, quite satisfied with herself.

Gibbs was starting to put puzzle pieces together and not like what picture he was seeing. "Our victim wasn't a victim Abby. He was part of a terrorist cell." He began making his way hurriedly from the lab. "Now we just have to find the rest of the cell, their bomb, and this Anthrax."

Before he even made it to the elevator, his phone was chirping again. "Yeah, Gibbs…I'm in the lab, Ducky. Just give me a minute. Be right down." He flipped his phone shut and headed for the stairs instead, taking them as quickly as his feet could move. He needed to find out what Ducky knew, fill in the rest of the team, and update the Director. Vance was not going to like this. This would probably need to be reported to the Sec Nav and Sec Def and God knows what other government officials. Gibbs' whole case was turning into a nightmare.

Down in autopsy, Gibbs found Ducky still working and Palmer hovering over the badly burned body of Marine Staff Sergeant Michael Abild; their victim of the day, recent convert to Islam, and apparent terrorist, with Ducky mid-story about some trip of his youth to the country formerly known as Istanbul.

"Duck, what'd you find?" Gibbs demanded the second he walked through the doors.

Palmer looked at the intimidating lead investigator with nervousness and a hint of fear in his eyes, backing away to make plenty of room as Gibbs came around to inspect the body lying on the table. When Gibbs turned his head to the side eyeing the skittish assistant, Palmer stepped back again and nearly knocked over a small table with instruments on it.

Gibbs turned his attention to the medical examiner as he began to explain. "The reason I called you down here, Jethro was because my initial findings as of yet are that our Marine here did not die in the explosion." He picked up a lung off the metal table next to him. "Looking at the damage done to his lungs, I'd venture to guess some sort of respiratory infection killed him first. You can see it right there," he said pointing to a particular area within the lung tissue. "I won't know for sure what it is until I get a sample to Ms. Sciuto for analysis."

"I just came from there, Duck. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say our Marine died of Anthrax."

Ducky looked at Jethro with a serious expression. "Jethro, I wish I would have known sooner. If this is Anthrax, Sergeant Abild's body is still infectious. We have to go through standard decontamination protocols."

Autopsy was sealed off for 'infectious autopsy' protocols. Gibbs, Ducky, and Jimmy Palmer all had to take decontamination showers and go to the hospital for standard blood work and prophylactic treatment while the HAZMAT team took care of ensuring that the areas just outside of autopsy had not been contaminated as well.

It was frustrating to Gibbs to have lost a couple of hours to something he felt his team should have been on top of. Returning to NCIS from the hospital in the change of clothes he kept in his car and with a fresh cup of coffee, he hoped the team had found some good leads in his absence. As part of the protocols, he had to turn in his phone for replacement with one that wasn't possibly contaminated, one that he did not yet have in his hands. He had no way to communicate with the team while at the hospital.

"Boss, what did they say? You gonna be okay?" Tony asked as soon as he entered the squad room. "Oh, here's your new phone." He handed the device to Gibbs.

Gibbs clipped the phone to his belt in its usual place. _You should probably call Em and tell her what happened. Well, maybe not. That would just worry her. She's probably busy anyway._ He shifted his thoughts back to work. "Yeah, DiNozzo. I'm fine."

Just then, Abby came running in and threw her arms around him. "Oh, Gibbs! I'm so glad you're okay. I was so worried. It's really all my fault. I should have found it sooner and told Ducky. I know you don't like apologies, Gibbs, but I'm so sorry. I really screwed up and I could have gotten you and Ducky killed. Oh, and Palmer too." She hugged him again, this time even harder. "I'm so sorry, Gibbs."

Gibbs hugged her back and patted her on the back. "It's okay, Abbs. I'm fine. Ducky's fine. Palmer's fine. Everybody's fine. Now let go. You're squeezing too tight, I can barely breath."

She released him just as suddenly as she had grabbed him. "I'm just glad you're all okay."

Not wasting any more time, he asked her, "Did you get any matches on those fingerprints from the house?"

"Now that you mention it, yes and no. I mean, most of them belong to our dead Marine, but there were at least five distinct others, mostly in the garage and the basement. I didn't get any hits in AFIS, but I did get a hit on one in Interpol to a known Al Queda terrorist by the name of Aman Al Halawani," Abby informed him.

"McGee…" Gibbs began.

"Already on it, Boss," McGee replied, sitting at his desk furiously typing on his keyboard, a look of deep concentration on his face. "Got it, Boss. Putting it up on the plasma now. Looks like Halawani has been on the CIA's terrorist watch list for the past eight years, ever since his ties to Bin Laden were discovered. They had been tracking his movements across the Middle East for several years, but lost track of him earlier this year in Yemen and haven't been able to find him since."

"Well, that's obvious, McGee, since his fingerprints are in a house on a Marine base thirty miles outside of D.C. that all evidence points to having contained the makings of a dirty bomb and Anthrax!" Gibbs was yelling by now, his temper and frustration at their lack of a good solid lead in the case getting the best of him. He chugged down the remaining coffee in his cup and threw it in the trash by his desk. "I'm going for more coffee. I want every piece of information on Sergeant Abild and Halawani from birth to now by the time I get back. I mean every step they took, every person they spoke to, every breath they took. I want _everything_." With that, he stormed out of the squad room to the front elevators, heading to his favorite coffee shop just outside of the Navy Yard. He needed a short walk and a few minutes to think.

McGee looked from Tony to Ziva to Abby who were all standing around staring after Gibbs. "You don't really think he was serious, do you?"

Abby turned to McGee. "I'm just glad I'm not you. If Gibbs is sucking down coffee that fast, he's in one bad mood. I'm going back to my lab. Bye," and took off to the rear elevator to escape the tension that was increasing in the room.

Turning to her computer, beginning to type, Ziva commented, "I am not sure what he believes we are going to find that the CIA has not already. If they could not find Halawani, what makes Gibbs think we can?"

Tony just laughed. "How many times have we dug the CIA out of their own holes around here? Don't you remember Trent Kort? I think Gibbs just has more faith in us than he does them. He knows we're just that good."

Ziva just glared at her computer monitor. "I would not get so cocky, Tony until we have found these terrorists. There is no telling what they have planned and how many people could die if we cannot find them in time. We do not even know how much time we have.

Gibbs walked slowly down the sidewalk, cell phone up to his ear. "You still at the office?"

"No, I just got home about an hour ago. What about you? I just saw on the news there was an explosion at the Marine base in Quantico this morning. A suspected terrorist cell is involved? What's going on?"

"_What?_ Where could they be getting their information?" He thought back to the crime scene and all the bomb squad and HAZMAT crew milling around. Any one of them may have been a leak to their own personal speculation not knowing how close to the truth they were. "I don't know how the media got that, but it's true."

"How true? What did you find?" growing concern edged into her voice.

He was thankful Em was someone he could talk to about his job that she understood it and what he dealt with, she was familiar with the stresses. "Traces of enriched Uranium and Anthrax spores." He was going to refrain from telling her he spent a few hours being decontaminated and treated for Anthrax exposure, no point in worrying her. "There's apparent ties to Al Queda. I just can't figure out for the life of me why they would need both a bomb and a biological weapon. My gut isn't leading me anywhere with this one, Em."

"Over the past eight years I've investigated a whole lot of terrorist related crimes, Jethro. I can tell you that there is one theme that often runs through them, causing widespread mass panic. If a terrorist cell could release a biological weapon on Washington D.C. that would certainly have people panicked throughout the city and a lot of people across the country. If they followed that up by decimating our capital with a dirty bomb, they would succeed in bringing the entire country into a state of panic and hysteria and utter chaos. I could only guess that act would be followed by attacks from additional cells in other major cities, slowly bringing the entire country to its knees."

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. The idea that Em could be right in her assessment of the situation was more than overwhelming. Gibbs had no reason to doubt that she knew what she was talking about though. She'd been specializing in this sort of thing for eight years and working counterterrorism for seven years before that.

"Em, I appreciate your input. That at least gives me a working theory. I just wish you could tell me where to find the bad guys," he said in exasperation. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, anything."

"I may be here all night working this case. Would you mind going over and having dinner with Dad? I know it's getting late already, and he's probably wondering where I am. I haven't had time to call him yet. Things have just been crazy all day," Gibbs said, reaching up to run his hand over his tired face while she replied.

"I don't mind at all. I had put a small pot roast with potatoes and carrots in the Crock-Pot this morning for dinner. There should be plenty for both of us. I'll just take that over. Don't worry about him tonight. If it makes you feel better, I'll stay there tonight so he won't be alone. You just focus on your case, and don't worry about a thing," she said soothingly.

It was just what he needed to hear and one of the things he loved about her. She was so caring and thoughtful. Em would do anything for anyone and even more for someone she cared about. Gibbs knew Em loved Jack too. She missed her own father and enjoyed spending time with his.

He had finally reached the coffee shop. "I need to be going. Thanks for taking care of Dad tonight. And thanks for the talk I needed some insight to help direct me." He paused at the doors, about to enter. "I love you, Em."

"I love you too, Jethro. Good luck on the case. Call if you need me." With that, she was gone.

He entered the coffee shop and ordered his usual large black Jamaican blend, paid the girl at the register, and left, quickly heading back to NCIS at a much quicker pace than he had taken on his way out. Just before he reached the doors to the building, his phone chirped its familiar ring.

"Gibbs," he answered.

"Boss, Vance is looking for you, and he looks pretty pissed. Said to tell you he wants to see you the second you get back. Something about the media coverage on this case," said Tony, sounding a bit afraid to pass on the message.

He was at the elevators pushing the button to go upstairs by then. "I'll be right there," he replied curtly then flipped his phone closed and stuck it back on his belt clip.

Gibbs couldn't imagine what good was going to come from a conversation with Director Vance.


	16. Admonishment & Admission

Chapter 16

"Director, I beg your pardon, but you've only given my team 24 hours to solve this case. You can't expect us to work miracles."

"Gibbs, this is out of my hands. Your team is the best I've got and I made that clear, but you have to look at it from my position. The Sec Nav and Sec Def are both breathing down my neck wanting results and wanting them now. They've already raised the threat level to orange. With this being leaked to the media people are starting to panic. We have no idea what kind of timeframe we have to work within and these terrorists are who knows how many steps ahead of us." Vance took a moment to survey his lead investigator. "Look, I know you don't play well with others. Never have. Never will. But this is serious, Gibbs. You have to just accept this and deal with it. You and your team have been up all night working on this and still have no idea where to find this cell. We're bringing in another team to work with you."

"Leon, just give us a little more time. Abby and McGee are searching through Sergeant Abild's computer right now to see what they can find. Tony and Ziva are checking out a lead on a mosque that may be tied in somehow. We just need some more time," Gibbs was half pleading, half demanding.

The Director stood up to look Gibbs straight in the eyes, "It's a done deal, Gibbs." He reached over to press the intercom button on his phone and spoke to his secretary. "Send in our guest please."

It only took a moment before the door to his office opened and the head of the team Gibbs had just been told would be pairing up with his own and basically taking over his case entered the room.

"Special Agent Gibbs, I'd like to introduce you to Special Agent West of the DOD's Terroristic Crimes Investigative Unit. Her team will be working alongside yours and she'll be taking the lead on the investigation." Vance suddenly went silent as he observed the demeanor of the two agents.

Agent West remained standing near the door, seeming relaxed, but her face showed just a hint of apprehension. He was well aware that Gibbs' reputation for being difficult to get along with and rather off-putting preceded him, not only within the walls of NCIS, but among other agencies they had worked with as well. Everyone seemed to know Gibbs and dread working with him, despite satisfaction with the results. It was always the same, FBI, CIA, DOD, NSA, ICE, DEA, ATF. You name the letters in the alphabet soup and someone there knew Gibbs and didn't like him.

Vance turned his attention to his most senior agent and source of many frustrations in his directorship. Gibbs was standing perfectly still, mouth hanging slightly agape, a look of shock on his face, something Vance had never seen before. He could only attribute it to the incredible attractiveness of Agent West and the fact that she was a redhead, something that even Vance was aware of Gibbs' fondness for. He also thought it could have something to do with the fact that this other agent was not just an attractive woman but a very young looking one at that. Director Vance had read her file and knew how old she really was but could only assume that Gibbs would take her for the late twenty-something that she appeared to be. He already had a feeling Gibbs was going to have a problem taking orders from her.

The Director cleared his throat loudly bringing both agents' attention to him. Gibbs turned to face the Director's desk and she stepped forward, coming to stand alongside him. "Agent West is a highly capable Lead Investigator, Agent Gibbs. I shouldn't have to tell you this, but I will. She's a Harvard graduate, worked in the FBI's Counterterrorism Unit at Quantico for…"

"I know," Gibbs cut him off. "I'm well aware of her qualifications and credentials. It just took me by surprise when I saw her. I thought you'd bring in the FBI's Counterterrorism Unit. I didn't even think about the DOD's TCIU. I have no problem working with Em. We'll be fine."

Em smiled and blushed a little, realizing he had just given away too much about them by calling her that. She was well aware that he had wanted to keep his private life private at work and unless he had suddenly changed his mind without telling her, he was about to give himself away.

Vance glanced at Em then turned back to Gibbs, giving him a long hard look. "I take it you two know each other well. Perhaps on a more personal level. Is there something I need to know, Agent Gibbs?"

"Seeing as how it _is_ personal, I don't see how it's any of your business, Leon," Gibbs said defensively, his voice slightly raised.

Trying to stay calm, Vance glared at him and in a sharp tone of warning, replied, "If it's going to affect this investigation then it is my business whether you think it's personal or not. I don't really care if the two of you are sleeping together outside of work so long as you can work together as professionals and get the job done on my time. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Gibbs replied flatly.

"Good. Now, Agent West, are you sure you can lead this team and give orders in light of your personal relationship with Agent Gibbs?"

She just smiled an almost wicked smile that caught Gibbs attention out of the corner of his eye causing him to raise an eyebrow, curious as to what she was thinking. "Director Vance, if you read my file completely you should know I'm not the kind of woman who's easily manipulated or controlled. I have no problem taking the lead and cracking the whip when necessary. You have no cause for concern with me. Agent Gibbs will not give me any trouble at all, you can be sure of that."

Her direct, unwavering response satisfied Vance and he dismissed them from his office.

Once out of the office and past Vance's secretary, Gibbs leaned in close to Em's ear and whispered, "Crack the whip, huh? So you like to play rough sometimes?" and smacked her playfully on the ass before they came into view of anyone else.

"Jethro, you're incorrigible," she exclaimed with a small giggle just before they entered out onto the walkway overlooking the squad room.

He looked down and saw Ziva and DiNozzo staring up at them with what appeared to be mixed looks of shock and horror that he couldn't figure out. "Looks like DiNozzo and Ziva are back from following up on a lead we got on a mosque nearby the base." Eyeing McGee's still empty desk he commented, "McGee must still be down with Abby working on the vic's computer. Where's your team?" he asked as they walked down the steps side by side.

"Since this was so close I left them at the office to come, meet with your director and you, find out what you and your team have so far and decide what resources you need from my team. I don't want to crowd you out of your space by bringing in everyone if they aren't needed or if they can do part of the work from our offices. I'll assess as we go and make decisions as I see fit," she replied, finishing just as they reached the bottom of the steps.

Meanwhile, Tony and Ziva were trying to restrain themselves from reacting at the sight of the mysterious young redhead Gibbs had been sneaking around with now casually descending the stairs in the middle of NCIS as if she belonged there. They had no idea what to make of it. The same thought was on both of their minds. _How could Gibbs bring her here in front of everyone and act so natural?_

She was far closer than she had been in the restaurant, and they could see her quite clearly in the bright light. Today she was looking very professional in a chocolate brown pantsuit with a fitted v-neck lavender blouse in some soft looking fabric. The dark red tresses of hers were flowing in loose waves down her back and over her shoulders just like that night they had first seen her.

She wore a serious expression as she spoke to their boss, but it made her full lips look no less sensuous or her wide-set bright eyes with thick long lashes no less appealing. She appeared to be wearing the type of sensible shoes that Ziva herself often wore, rather than high heels, bringing her height just about eye level with Gibbs. The only jewelry she seemed to be wearing was a gold chain with a small pendent dangling from it that Ziva guessed was the one Gibbs had given her that night.

Gibbs noticed that Tony and Ziva were staring at Em seeming to judge every little thing about her as they entered the squad room as if they knew something about her he didn't. He tried to ignore their odd behavior, in favor of finding out if they found anything, then moving on to introductions and explanations. "What did you two find out at the mosque?"

Ziva was intently examining Em with deep interest, almost a hint of jealousy, and did not immediately respond to Gibbs query.

Pulling himself together more quickly, Tony answered. "Nothing really, Boss. We spoke to the cleric there and showed him Abild's photo. He said he had been there when he first converted and seemed to be a very devout Muslim, taking the peaceful word of the Koran very seriously. However, his behavior changed over time and a few months ago, he stopped coming. The cleric had no idea if he was worshiping at another mosque. He was not familiar with Halawani and showed no signs of recognition at the mention of his name."

Tony had tried to keep his eyes off the young woman with Gibbs while he was speaking, but found her incredibly distracting. His eyes just kept wandering to her repeatedly despite his best efforts. He was just dying to know who she was and wanted Gibbs to explain himself. As far as he knew, Director Vance hadn't declared it 'Bring your hooker to work day'.

The intense examination from Ziva and wandering eyes from Tony had not escaped Gibbs' notice and he felt angry with his team members for being what he considered rude to Em before he had even introduced her. He felt the urge the head slap them both, but refrained himself. What he really wanted to do was wrap his arms around Em and hold her, feeling that she would likely be embarrassed by the strange attention his team was giving her.

Em, however, was quite used to harsh judgment by agents and law enforcement officers all around the country whenever she came into an investigation and took over. She knew she looked far younger than her true age, which always threw people off. Her looks also garnered attention and assumptions as well. It had long ago lost its effect on her.

Gibbs finally spoke. "I should probably introduce you to Special Agent Emerald West of the DOD's Terroristic Crimes Investigative Unit. Director Vance has just informed me that she will be taking over as Lead Investigator on our case. She'll be coordinating the effort between us and her own team at the Pentagon, possibly bringing in some of her people here to NCIS. You are to follow her lead just like you would my own. She's the boss on this one."

Tony and Ziva both looked like Gibbs had just pulled a gun on them. Ziva said nothing at first and all Tony could manage was a weakly questioning, "Boss?"

"Not me for this case. I'm just Gibbs. She's Boss," he replied, pointing at Em. "Special Agent West, this is my senior agent, Tony DiNozzo and our probationary agent, Ziva David."

"Nice to meet you," Tony managed, still caught off-guard.

Ziva was shocked but awash with a sense of relief that Tony had been completely wrong about this woman. Finally connecting Gibbs' words to her brain, she reached her hand out to Em. "Welcome to NCIS. I look forward to working with you."

Em took Ziva's hand in hers. "Thank you, Agent David and you too, Special Agent DiNozzo. I'm sure we'll get along great working together. I'm not too much of a hardass, just don't believe anything my team tells you," she added jokingly.

Tony laughed. "You don't slap the backs of their heads do you?" Em shook her head 'no' and Gibbs glared at him. "Great to know. You can call me Tony if you want. We're pretty casual with each other around here."

"All right, Tony. You can both call me Em. That's what my whole team and everyone who knows me calls me." She turned to Ziva. "Should I call you Ziva or do you have another preference?" she asked politely.

"Ziva is fine." Pausing for a moment, she added, "I love your necklace. It is very unique. Where did you find it?" She was sure it was the necklace from the restaurant although she did not understand why Gibbs would have given her a golden flip-flop with diamonds. There had to be some meaning she was unaware of and she knew it.

Em reached her hand up, fingering the pendent with a smile. "Thank you, Ziva. It was a gift."

"From anyone special?" Ziva inquired further.

Sure she was blushing at this point, Em answered, "Yes, very special. It's from the man I'm in love with."

"Come on, we should probably go down, check on Abby and McGee, and introduce you to them," Gibbs said to Em, holding out his arm for her to take, which she did, and he led her off to the rear elevator, wanting to get her away from Ziva's questions before they became even more personal.

Once they were out of earshot, Ziva immediately turned to Tony. "I cannot believe how wrong you were about her, Tony. You had us all believing Gibbs would pay a woman for sex and companionship. What would make us think that to be true? She's in love with him!" Not waiting for him to answer her, she went on. "Abby and McGee are going to be caught by surprise as well. Should we warn them?"

McGee had shared the pictures he took with the whole team. All of them knew what she looked like and upon laying eyes on her would have the same immediate shocked response Tony and Ziva had.

"No, they're going to find out in just a couple of minutes, but we should probably warn Ducky. No telling how long she could be in the building before he sees her." Tony looked at Ziva who grinned at him and they both raced to their desks to try to get to their phones to call Ducky first.

Just before the elevator reached the floor for Abby's lab, Gibbs flipped the emergency switch, bringing it to a halt, dimming the lights. "I apologize for the way they were behaving up there, looking at you like that and all. To be honest, they've been acting really strange around me for the past couple of weeks, and I have no idea why. Yesterday Abby gave me a St. Rita medallion to wear. Said she's the patron saint of the lonely and that she thought I needed it. I don't know what gave her that idea. So before we get down to her lab, I just wanted to warn you she's been acting weirder than usual and remind you what I've told you about her. Don't be freaked out."

Em just laughed. "Don't worry, Jethro, your team's behavior won't faze me. I've been treated worse by far less impressive people. Yes, I remember everything you told me about Abby. If you recall what I told you about Lily, Phoebe, and Ethan then you'd know one simple cheerful Goth forensic scientist is not going to seem unusual to me."

Gibbs recalled their many conversations about their teams and remembered Em describing Lily, her data analyst, as an 'endearing punk rocker with short spiky hair that could be any color of the rainbow any day of the week'. She once referred to her two forensic scientists, Phoebe and Ethan, as 'a preppy blonde valley girl who believes the only color clothes come in is pink' and 'a brooding dark Goth covered in tattoos and piercings'. He smiled and flipped the emergency switch. Dealing with Abby would be a cakewalk for Em.

Entering the lab, music blasting from the stereo, Darren stood guard near the door, and Gibbs gestured a brief greeting to him. Abby was at the workstation in the center of the room wearing a white short sleeved blouse, super short red plaid skirt, today with a few chains wrapped around the waist, three inch platform Mary Janes, and white thigh high stockings with black bows on the backs. She was busily tapping at the keyboard in front of her as computer code scrolled up the screen before her eyes.

On the other end of the workstation sat McGee staring at his own computer monitor, typing furiously at his keyboard, dressed professionally in brown pants and a cream-colored button down shirt, his tan jacket hanging on the back of his seat as he worked.

"Hey, have you found anything yet?" Gibbs yelled out over the screaming noise that Abby considered music.

They both jumped in their seats. Abby grabbed the remote and turned off the stereo as she and McGee turned around to face Gibbs, jaws dropping when they spotted the young redheaded woman standing just a little too closely to him. Neither of them knew what to say. They couldn't imagine why she was here. There was no explanation for why Gibbs was acting as if everything were completely normal and simply inquiring about the case.

"Can either of you speak?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

McGee and Abby both watched aghast as the young woman reached a small hand up to Gibbs arm as if to calm him from his obviously growing frustration, and he immediately took a deep breath to relax. It was absolutely inexplicable behavior from Gibbs.

In a more conversational tone of voice, Gibbs spoke again. "Abby, McGee, I'd like to introduce you to Special Agent Emerald West of the DOD's Terroristic Crimes Investigative Unit. Director Vance has put her in the lead of our investigation. She's going to be coordinating the efforts between teams, possibly bringing in some of her own people from the Pentagon to work with us if needed. I need you to understand that she's the boss and everything goes through her on this case. I'll be working with her, but every decision is ultimately up to her." He turned to Em to make introductions. "This is my forensic scientist, Abby Sciuto and Special Agent Tim McGee."

Em smiled warmly at both of them. "Nice to meet you both. I look forward to working with you and hope we have a chance to get to know each other better. And feel free to just call me Em. I'm pretty casual with my team and wouldn't want to be any different with any of you. I'm sure we'll all get along great."

Neither McGee nor Abby said a single word. They didn't greet Em in any fashion. Abby wasn't being her usually friendly self and for that matter, McGee, who could usually be counted on to be professionally courteous hadn't managed to be even slightly personable. All they did was sit and stare for what seemed like an eternity to Gibbs.

The looks on their faces told him something more than just processing the idea that Vance had brought in another team to help and a temporary new 'boss' for them on this case was going on. He could almost see the gears spinning in their minds as they both sat there silently staring between he and Em as if confused.

Suddenly a huge smile spread across Abby's face and she crossed the short distance to Gibbs in a leaping run, throwing her arms around him in a death-grip hug, completely taking him by surprise.

"Oh, Gibbs! I'm so happy! You're not lonely!" she exclaimed joyfully.

"Abbs, what are you talking about? What is going on?" he managed to choke out, barely able to breathe in her tight hold.

She let go, standing in front of him, still so excited she was bouncing up and down with energy. "You and Em, Gibbs. You're not lonely like everybody thought because she's your girlfriend. I was right and they were all wrong. I knew it, Gibbs. Deep down, I really did. I swear."

Gibbs felt cornered. He hadn't intended to tell anyone of his relationship with Em. Now Vance already knew and here was Abby stating it as if she knew too. Either he had to lie to her in front of Em and deny it, possibly hurting Em in the process, not even knowing what proof she was basing her information on, or he went against his own nature and opened up about his private life to his team. He couldn't even look at Em for some silent indication of her own feelings about Abby's actions without giving them away for sure.

He looked at the ceiling, taking a deep breath as he did so. _Em would understand if you lied. She knows what it's like to be in your position._ He closed his eyes for a moment. _But you'd never forgive yourself for denying her to anyone._ Exhaling slowly, he looked at Abby, who was still bouncing in front of him, waiting for him to say something. "You're right, Abbs. I'm not lonely. I haven't been for a while now." Slipping an arm around Em's waist and pulling her close to him, he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, much to the shock and amazement of McGee and the absolute delight of Abby. "I'm in love with Em. I'm not lonely at all."


	17. Case Breaks & Kevlar Vests

Chapter 17

Gibbs' entire team had been buzzing around in a flurry of activity and chatter all day. The excitement surrounding his open confession to not only having a girlfriend, but actually being in love with her spread to the rest of the team the second he and Em left Abby's lab. Even Jimmy Palmer was in the loop on this one.

Adding to the excitement was the progression on the case. Once Gibbs' admitted he was in love with Em and Abby finally stopped hugging the both of them and he managed to get her focused back on the case, they hit the break they weren't expecting to find so quickly.

"So, McGee and I haven't had much luck breaking through the encryption on Abild's computer. I have no idea where he got this level of security software, but I've never seen anything like it and neither has McGee. The only thing we did manage to find were a couple of cryptic emails that mention Halawani by name," Abby was explaining finally.

Em reacted immediately. "Aman Al Halawani?"

Gibbs replied with a questioning glance, "Yeah, you familiar with him? We found his fingerprints at the crime scene and matched them to Interpol. Apparently the CIA lost him…"

"In Yemen earlier this year and we picked up some information in Dallas that may be tied in here." She grabbed her cell phone out of its belt holster and quickly hit a speed dial number, waiting just a few seconds for an answer. "Lily, I need you here with me at NCIS… Yes, the Navy Yard… We've got ties to Halawani with this case and a highly encrypted computer their top people are having some trouble with…Great, see you then." She pulled the phone away from her ear. "She should be here in about thirty minutes or so depending on traffic. Lily's a little unusual, but I'm sure the two of you will like her." Em turned to Gibbs. "I think it's time to call in my team. If Halawani's involved, I need them here. We need to get on top of this now." She pressed another speed dial button and her call was answered almost immediately. "Danny, gear up. I need you guys here… Halawani's tied into this… Bring everything we found in Dallas… I want to see your bright shining faces here so fast you make me believe you invented a transporter and beamed here…" She practically yelled through the phone. "Now!" With that, she hung up.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her. "Hm, and I thought I could be harsh."

"It takes different tactics with different people. With Lily, it's easy to just ask her nicely. She and I have been friends since I was seventeen. Given that twenty years of history, she's great to work with." Em didn't notice the look of surprise exchanged between Abby and McGee at the revelation of Em's true age. They couldn't wait to share that tidbit with everyone else. "Now, on the other hand, with my guys, sometimes they can be a bit hardheaded. They all know me and know I won't take their crap, but I'm a woman, they all tower over top of me, and sometimes they like to play as if they think they can push me so I tend to be harder on them when the need arises. Part of the joy of working with a team of all male agents, I suppose. Anyway, we're really wasting time here. Abby and McGee need to keep working to see if they can make any progress with this computer before Lily gets here, and you need to escort me to MTAC so I can contact the Sec Def and give a sit rep. He's not going to like this. I also need to get authorization to read you and your team into the case file from Dallas so you have a better understanding of what's going on."

Em's talk with the Sec Def was quite short and to the point. He had no problem with her talking to Gibbs' team about Halawani now that he knew he was possibly in the D.C. area. She called McGee up from the lab, gathering the four NCIS agents and gave them a briefing in the conference room regarding what she and her team had found in Dallas the previous week. They had several leads to go on but lacked the simple detail of what city in the United States they belonged before now. With that one piece of information and the double team efforts of NCIS and TCIU, Em was sure they would have the case solved quickly and hopefully before Halawani and whatever terrorist cell remained with him, could act to use their biological weapon or dirty bomb.

By the time they left the conference room, Lily and Em's team of agents were arriving to the squad room, their first time ever to NCIS. Like any other time her team had to meld in and work with fellow law enforcement agents and take over a case, there was a sense of tension. Most other agencies felt put off by having to call in 'big shot Washington federal agents' and bristle at their presence.

The three TCIU agents were clean cut tall, athletically built men, looking to be between early thirties to forty carrying laptop bags. Standing slightly ahead of the others was the obvious senior agent of Em's team, he looked to be the oldest, about Tony's height, broad shoulders narrowing to a trimly fit body in a finely tailored classic designer black suit and tie combo, very professional. His dark hair was short with a slight waviness to it, his eyes were piercingly intense and serious, his facial features angular and sharp.

To his left side was a taller and more slender built man, perhaps a few years younger with incredibly short light brown hair, pale skin, and a smattering of light freckles across his cheeks and nose that gave him a slightly youthful appearance along with his softer face. This agent was dressed just a bit more casual in gray slacks and a pale green button down, but free of a tie or jacket. He was smiling and seemed easy going and friendly.

The other agent stood in equal height to the first but his build was that of a football player, broad and muscular, looking as if he could tackle any of Gibbs' team to the ground with one try. His hair was jet black, longer than the other two agents' but perfectly styled. Obviously the youngest of the three, his complexion was quite tanned with dark freckles across his face that seemed to draw attention to his deep dark eyes. Dressed in khaki cargo pants, boots, and a dark blue polo shirt, he was far more casual and laid back than the other agents.

Suddenly popping out from behind the men was a tiny pixie-like girl who took all of Gibbs' team by surprise but garnered no reaction from Em's agents. With her short spiky bright purple hair, tight purple and black striped tank top worn over a black tee, short black mini-skirt accented by a few chains dangling around it, her clothing was a far cry from the professional dress of the men standing behind her. The accents of a black studded dog collar, eyebrow piercing, nose piercing, dark eyeliner and mascara with purple eye-shadow and lipstick, purple fingernails showing through the fingerless black fishnet gloves on her hands, and the heavy black combat style boots she wore she was an unusual sight to behold.

"Em! Hey! Where can I set up? Who's their resident geek? I need to talk tech with them." She was bubbly, talking fast and rocking up on the balls of her feet as she did so. "Oh my God, Em," she suddenly said looking from Em to Gibbs. "Is this the older man you've been talking about?" The sudden deep reddening of her friend's cheeks answered her question. "You're right, he's hot! Great choice." She winked at Em who wished a hole would open up and swallow her through the floor.

Like Gibbs, Em did not share her private life with her team, with the exception of some vague information regarding Jethro to Lily who was her best friend of twenty years. She was afraid that with his team knowing they would blab to her team, but she was hoping she could possibly have an opportunity to share the information off to the side with them on her own before that happened. Leave it to Lily to make an observation aloud without any hesitation.

Em chose to move on without commenting. "I believe some quick introductions are in order and then everyone needs to get to work, my team will take the lead and help Jethro, I mean, Agent Gibbs' team get up to speed. I'll split you into teams of one TCIU agent with each NCIS agent. You'll each follow the leads we found in Dallas and we'll work from there." Everyone nodded in agreement and no one seemed to have any questions so she continued. "All right then. This is Supervisory Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, he and I will take point and work on the most highly classified lead information we attained. Senior Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, I'd like you to meet Senior Special Agent Danny Stearns," she said indicating the agent in the suit. "The two of you will work together on the information we found about some possible safe houses. All we had were street addresses without cities. Let's assume they're in the D.C. area and try to track them down. Special Agent Tim McGee, first I'd like you to show my data analyst Lily Sparrow down to Abby's lab, get them introduced so she can get started working with Abby on decrypting that computer then you will be working with Special Agent Brandon Ramsey," she pointed out the tallest of her men. "The two of you are going to pick up the electronic paper trail we followed in Dallas and see what you can pick up here. Brandon's a whiz with computers so you'll be well matched for the task. Finally, Probationary Agent Ziva David, I'd like you to meet Special Agent Joe Bishop. The two of you will take the leads we had on some cryptic indicators to an extremist mosque recruiting and training terrorists. You both speak the languages needed so you should be able to decipher the information now that we know what area we are looking in and can compare to the mosques here. Follow up with what you find." Em looked around at the two teams standing around nearly facing off with each other still. "I meant _now_ everyone. Get to work. I want a sit rep in an hour. If you're out of the building, you are to call in every hour. We are dealing with highly dangerous terrorists. I should not need to remind anyone, my team especially that safety is of utmost importance. Watch your backs out there. If you think you've found something, call for back up, do not move in without proper back up. You're no hero if you're dead. Report anything you find directly back to me immediately. Now, seriously, meet your new partners and get to work."

The two teams split up into pairs with the exception of McGee who came up to Lily as Brandon stood nearby, watching over her like a protective big brother. "Hi, I'm Tim. Let me show you down to Abby's lab. It's right this way." He led her down the hallway and around toward the elevator, with Brandon following right behind. McGee couldn't help but notice that the unusually outfitted analyst was cute despite the hair, makeup, and piercings. He thought she had a cute face and found her incredibly pale blue eyes captivating, stealing glances over at her as they made their way along to the lab. "So, how did you get into computers, Lily?"

"Well, I sort of got busted for hacking into the Pentagon when I was sixteen and instead of arresting me they paid for me to go to MIT to get my degree if I signed a contract to come work for them after graduating. I had already graduated high school a year earlier and was bored anyway so I figured, hey, what the hell," she replied casually.

"You hacked the Pentagon at sixteen? Wow." McGee was fascinated by this petite purple-haired hacker.

"Yep. Who knew it would earn me a free ride to get a doctorate in computer science at MIT of all things. And I only did it to see if I could because I was told it was the most secure system in the world, unhackable." She laughed at that.

They entered the lab to find Abby still furiously typing at the keyboard with one hand and holding a giant Caf-Pow! to her lips with the other, the deafening scream of death metal blowing out of the stereo speakers.

"Abby!" McGee yelled over the noise.

She turned, grabbed the remote to shut off the music, and greeted them. "Hey, McGee. You brought me new playmates? Good thing, cause I'm getting bored down here all alone with nothing but encrypted computer code that has me about to bang my head against the wall." She eyed the tiny little punk rock chick from head to toe. "Love your look. I've got a collar just like that. You're hair is totally cute. Are you Lily, here to save me from the evils of this code?"

Lily smiled a warm friendly smiled, quickly returned by Abby. "I can tell we're going to be great friends, Abby. You're skirt is to die for. I'm so jealous of your pigtails. I just never have had the patience to grow my hair out." She began pulling her laptop out of her bag and hooking it into Abby's workstation, knowing exactly what she was doing. "Sorry to get right down to business, but Em doesn't like time wasted. It's her rule number one. Right, Brandon?" she asked the agent behind her without even turning around, already typing on her keyboard.

"Rule number one, time is never on your side during a case, don't waste time," he answered immediately. "Speaking of which, Agent McGee and I should back upstairs and get to work on our own assignment. We'll leave you ladies to geek out." He stepped over to Lily, leaning all the way down to her and gave her a hug. "Call if you need anything, Lil."

"I'll be fine, B," she assured him as he made his way to the door, following McGee.

Abby being Abby was curious and just had to ask. "So are you dating Brandon?"

Lily giggled at that. "No, we're just really good friends. We really hit it off when he joined the team six years ago, kind of like siblings. I always know I can turn to him, and he's very protective of me."

They discussed the computer code for a few minutes, Abby catching Lily up on what she had been doing, then dove right into it, making far more headway with it now that Lily was on the task. Feeling that things were going so smoothly, they began chatting.

"How did you meet Em?" Abby asked, just dying of curiosity.

"Well, I was sixteen and just started my freshmen year at MIT, she was seventeen and a junior at this really pretentious prep school, totally not the kind of place I'd ever step foot in. Anyway, she had been dating this guy, Ben for a long time, like they met when she was like ten. He was nineteen and a sophomore at MIT and the two of us had some classes together. We hit it off as friends and eventually he asked me if I wanted to meet his girlfriend, thought we'd like each other. Em was just so awesome. Nothing like any rich girl I'd ever met before in my life. Anyway, after she graduated high school, they got married and I was one of her bride's maids. We've been like best friends ever since. When Em graduated from Harvard and took the job at the FBI and Ben and I both graduated from MIT and took software security jobs with the Pentagon, we all moved to D.C. together. They got a house and I got an apartment not far from them. It was really great until..." Lily's face turned down, her voice had trailed off, and she looked away from Abby.

"What happened?" Abby asked quietly.

"I don't know that Em would really want me to say anything, but if you promise not to say anything…" Abby nodded her head. "Well, first Em got pregnant and we were all happy. I was going to be the godmother. Delilah was born premature and she had a problem with her heart. She had to have surgery as soon as she was born, but she didn't make it. Their baby girl died when she was only five days old." Lily choked back tears. "But things only got worse after that. I mean, they were both devastated by the loss. Just when I thought they were recovering and Em was talking like they were going to try again, it was 2001 and the Pentagon was attacked by terrorists. Ben was killed in the 9/11 attack, Abby. He was working on some computers in an area of the building opposite from where our offices were. I didn't even realize where he was when it happened. I didn't know what to tell Em, just that I couldn't find him anywhere. His death wasn't confirmed until the next day. She just closed up after that and wouldn't let anyone in. Em didn't date anyone or even show the slightest hint of interest in any man until she met your boss, Abby. She wouldn't tell me details, wanting to keep it private, but she talked about how he makes her feel, how he treats her, and I knew he was the one who would bring her back to life."

Abby turned her attention to her screen, trying not to let Lily see the tears in her eyes. Gibbs and Em really did belong together. Only Em could understand the pain he felt from losing Shannon and Kelly. Together they could make each other whole again, mend the broken hearts they both hid away from the world. Abby was crying, but she was happy. Gibbs wasn't lonely, no longer had to hurt all alone. Gibbs was finally loved the way he missed being loved. It was all Abby could possibly want for her friend.

The squad room was a flurry of fingers tapping on keyboards, voices talking over phones, discussions on findings, and the comings and goings of the multiple teams of agents following up on their leads. Gibbs and Em had spent the majority of the day locked behind the closed doors of MTAC following leads beyond the clearance level of the rest of Gibbs' team.

Finally, Abby and Lily came running into the squad room just as Gibbs and Em descended the stairs from MTAC. All the agents were gathered, things had finally come together. All the puzzle pieces were there and they had the picture they needed.

Em was in full 'boss' mode now preparing to raid the locations they had determined the terrorists to be. "All right, we're going to have to split up into two teams and coordinate our entry times. We can't give them the opportunity to tip off each other. We don't know exactly how many of them there will be at each location but from all intel it looks like the cell consists of Halawani and about six or seven followers. If we're lucky they'll be relatively evenly split between the two locations." She looked around the room, making sure everyone was following her to this point. "Okay, Danny, Tony, Brandon, and Tim are all taking the safe house. Danny, you've got point. Jethro, Ziva, Joe, and I will take the mosque. We all use TCIU ear pieces, we carry enough for a team of twelve so there's plenty. These have the signal strength to carry over the five mile distance between the house and the mosque so we can all stay in contact. Brandon will get each one of you one and familiarize you with them."

As Brandon opened up the case and began fitting the NCIS team members with ear pieces and explaining their features, Em took two out of the case, placing one in her own ear and walking over to Gibbs with the other one. "Here, see the little button here, after you place it in your ear, you press and hold it till you hear a beep to turn it on. When you want to speak to the others you simply reach up and tap the button and the embedded microphone will pick up your voice. Tap it a second time to turn the microphone back off. It's very simple."

Gibbs took the tiny device in is big hands and turned it over, examining it. "And this little thing will actually carry over five miles?"

"Technically it will carry over twenty-five, but we only need it over five today," she replied.

Soon they were geared up, ear pieces in, Kevlar vests on, side arms checked, back up weapons secured, extra ammunition obtained for all parties. Abby and Lily stood in the squad room giving hugs and good luck wishes to their respective teams, both wondering how they were ever going to get through them all being gone in such a dangerous situation. Neither of them liked watch their adopted families walk away, knowing that any one of them might not make it back. Abby decided to introduce Lily to Ducky while they waited and have a nice cup of tea with him. That helped her and she thought Ducky would find Lily interesting and vice versa.

Once at the mosque, Em had them separate. Joe and Ziva were to take the back entrance she and Jethro would take the front. It was not prayer time so she knew the building should be fairly empty and hoped there would not be any innocent bystanders. She did not believe in 'collateral damage'.

"Com check. Everyone hear me?" Em queried via the earpiece.

Following her protocols given just before they had headed out, each member of the joint team indicated their com presence by name and 'affirmative'. It was Em's SOP and her team knew it by heart. The NCIS team was beginning to think she was just as tough a boss as Gibbs in some ways only friendlier and they had yet to see her head slap any of her team, although she had given them a few glaring looks that reminded them distinctly of their own boss.

Gibbs found that from a professional standpoint, he was quite impressed with Em. She was a very capable leader, tough, and motivating, taking her job very seriously, never wasting any time. She hadn't spent any time during the day flirting around or being otherwise distracted by their personal relationship. She was absolutely all business, determined, and fully focused. He was surprised that unlike other situations he had been in, he didn't mind her taking the lead and taking orders from her. He trusted her and her instincts. Now the results were showing, they had gone from no ideas where they were headed this morning to preparing to raid two locations simultaneously, which they had evidence to uphold that they housed the terrorists and likely the weapons they were looking for. He felt proud of Em, proud that in some way, she belonged to him.

Em was at the ready. "Okay, everybody. On my mark. One, two, three."

With that they threw open the front doors to the mosque, both yelling out, "Federal Agents!"

Over the ear pieces could be heard yelling in Arabic and gun shots, just as was taking place in the mosque itself. It seemed everyone was taking heavy fire. Gibbs took out two of the armed men but spotted three more.

Everything happened so fast. It was all a blur. Ziva and Joe had entered through the rear, Ziva taking out the last man as Em had already shot the other two. Unexpectedly, two consecutive shots rang out reverberating off the walls of the mosque. Gibbs looked up to a balcony to see a man with a high-powered rifle, took aim, and fired upon the terrorist taking a sniper position.

Just as he heard Danny reporting in that they had secured the house, located the weapons, and had Halawani in custody, Gibbs realized that Em hadn't responded to anyone for the last few minutes of the fire fight during which she had been in nonstop contact with everyone.

He looked over in the direction she had taken cover in, but didn't see her. _She should have come out by now, it's over._ He immediately grew worried and ran over searching for her yelling out for her. "Em! Em! Where are you? Em!" Finding her lying on the floor, motionless, he became frantic. "Ziva, call for an ambulance. Em's been hit. She's not moving," he yelled out.

"Right away, Gibbs," she replied, running up behind him with her cell phone to her ear, already having dialed 911. She turned away as she began speaking to the operator to give the address and information.

Joe came running up to Gibbs. "How bad? Is she breathing? Where's she hit?"

Gibbs was near panic and irritated by the questions. "I don't know yet. She's wedged in here and it's too dark in here for me to see clearly. Help me get her out."

Em had created herself a cover from the gunfire between a partially opened door and a desk she had overturned. However the desk chair, a large lamp, and a small table next to it had fallen around her as well. Gibbs was throwing things out of the way as quickly as possible to clear out a path to carry her out to a well-lit area and assess her injuries.

They had things cleared out and Gibbs was about to reach in to pick her up when Joe commented, "Her arm looks bloody to me and that looks like blood on her head there."

That was the last thing Gibbs needed to hear. Em had been shot in the head. Visions of Kate popped into his head.

He picked her up into his arms and could feel her breath against his neck as he held her near. "She's breathing, Joe. Let's get her in some light, lay her down, and get this vest off."

They found a good spot and Gibbs set her down, taking off the Kevlar vest before laying her head on the floor, noticing six bullets lodged into her vest. Free of the burdening vest she was able to breathe more deeply and soon opened her eyes just as they heard the siren of an ambulance arriving.

"I hope you didn't call that for me, Jethro," she said, smiling up at him.

"You're bleeding, both your head and your arm. I think you need to be checked out. It would make me feel much better," he replied softly, stroking her hair on the opposite side from the blood, not wanting to hurt her.

She laughed. "I'll bet anything I just got grazed on the head. Happens to me fairly often, ask Joe. I have weird luck like that. Besides having a hell of a time washing blood out of my hair and a killer headache, I'll be fine. My arm does hurt pretty bad though." She lifted it up to inspect it and could see a small bullet hole in the outer edge of the flesh of her upper arm. "Looks like a through and through missing the bone. Wrap it up and I'll heal up in no time."

"Em, you were unconscious, I really think it's more serious than you're taking it," he insisted.

"Jethro, I got hit in the chest six times and couldn't catch my breath and I just passed out. Calm down." She reached up with her uninjured arm and grabbed his shoulder, using it to help pull herself up to sit as the paramedics came in.

Gibbs made room for them to do their job and stepped off to the side with Ziva and Joe, still wearing a worried look on his face, unconvinced she was really as okay as she insisted.

Joe patted him on the shoulder. "Get used to it. She's always like this. If one of us gets hurt, she mothers us to death, but if anything happens to her she laughs it off, refuses to go to the hospital or we have to drag her nearly with brute force. Then no matter what the doctors tell her she's back at the office the next day at least catching up on paperwork even if she can't do anything else. She's impossible. Don't say I didn't warn you."

At first, he said nothing, he just watched as the woman he loved so deeply sat arguing with the paramedics, insisting all her arm needed was a simple bandage and that she did not need to go to the hospital, but finally Gibbs turned to Joe and calmly replied, "I'll consider myself warned, but I think I'll take my chances. At this point, I can't imagine life without her, impossible or not." With that, he simply walked out following the stretcher Em was now laying on, still declaring the hospital was unnecessary, and he smiled.


	18. Epilogue

Epilogue

Gibbs busied himself with the tedious task of caulking the large front windows of his father's general store. Things were coming back together nicely. His father was glad to be back home finally. It had been a long four months for him staying in D.C. and with the seasons changed and fall upon them, he preferred to be in the small town of Stillwater, Pennsylvania to see the leaves more colorful.

As he worked, he thought back over the past week. It had been a rough one and he was glad in many ways that Em had been out of town on a case rather than in Washington where things had become so dangerous.

Paloma Reynosa, along with her politically positioned brother Alejandro Rivera had finally returned to act out their revenge on Gibbs. Mike Franks finally appeared out of nowhere, letting Gibbs know he was alive and well and offering to help take down the revenge-seeking siblings. It was a well-played game of cat and mouse between Reynosa and Gibbs, but in the end, Paloma Reynosa was dead and her brother was behind bars.

It was a disappointment that Em had not been around to meet Mike; Gibbs mentor, the man who was responsible for him being the NCIS agent he was today. He would have very much liked to have had the chance to introduce her to him, but as it was, Mike didn't stay after the excitement was over and there hadn't even been an opportunity to tell him about her.

Jack was sad to leave without saying good-bye to her too, but Gibbs promised his dad that she wasn't going anywhere. She would be in his life for many years to come and Jack would have plenty of chances to see her again.

He missed her himself though it seemed silly. He told her he'd only be in Stillwater for a week helping his dad, but she had been gone for a week before that, and he didn't know if she would be gone on another case when he got back.

Em had called three days ago to say she had just gotten back to D.C. and the second she walked in the office from getting off the plane her boss told her she was overdue for her annual physical and was scheduled for it eight a.m. the following morning, no excuses. She said that was just one of the many things she had been putting off that perhaps she could get caught up with while he was out of town and not being such a 'sexy distraction'.

Regardless, he wished she could have come to Stillwater with him. It would have been nice to show her where he grew up. Maybe he didn't have the best memories in this small town, but he had a lot of memories here, memories he'd like to share with her.

The sight of a black Ford Explorer parking in front of the store caught his eye. _It couldn't be… You just wish it were._ But then he saw her, red hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing a loose gray FBI tee under a navy blue knit jacket with jeans and sneakers. Em was standing on the sidewalk, leaning against her SUV, staring at her feet, looking like she was talking to herself. He immediately dropped the caulking gun, ran to the door, and rushed outside.

"Em, what are you doing here?" he asked her excitedly.

She looked nervous and broke eye contact with him quickly, looking back down to her shoes. "I wanted to see you, but now that I'm here I think maybe I shouldn't have come."

He was confused. Had he done something wrong? "Why would you think that?" He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, kissing the top of her head, then her forehead, then her cheeks, and finally her lips, taking his time on them, as she seemed to relax into his arms. Taking a breath, he whispered, "I was just thinking about how much I've missed you. Still, I'm surprised to see you here. What made you decide to come?"

She bit her lip and closed her eyes. He could feel her tensing again. "I decided I needed to talk to you, Jethro. It's about the results on my physical."

He began to worry, terrible thoughts, and worse case scenarios running through his mind. "What did they find?" he managed to choke out.

"Well, they called me yesterday with some blood work results and I had to follow up with a doctor yesterday afternoon. I spent all day and all night thinking about what to say to you, how to tell you this. I thought about talking to Lily or Abby for advice on what do to." He knew she had grown close to Abby since they first met on the Halawani case. He just couldn't imagine what Em was so upset about that she was worried about coming to him first. "I finally just woke up this morning and decided the only thing that made sense was to drive straight here and tell you in person before this drove me crazy."

Gibbs was getting anxious himself and so worried he could feel his heart pounding. _What if she's dying?_ It was the only thought that stuck in his head and he couldn't get it out. "Em, you're scaring me. Please, tell me what's going on. What's wrong with you? Are you going to be okay?"

Hesitantly, she answered. "Nothing's wrong with me exactly. I'm going to be okay. I'm not sure how you're going to be. I mean, we've been together for a little over three months. There are a lot of things we haven't talked about. I'm just afraid you're going to be angry with me."

He was confused. She didn't seem to be making any sense to him. How could she be so worried if nothing was wrong and why would he be angry with her? "I don't understand, Em. Please, just tell me what this is all about."

She turned a questioning gaze up at him, her eyes big and shimmering deep apple green, looking sincerely innocent as she asked, "How do you feel about being called daddy?"

For a few moments, he said nothing, taking in those words and turning them over in his mind, translating them into something he could clearly understand. His jaw dropped slightly then was replaced by a huge grin, a gasp of surprise and a laugh both escaping him as his eyes widened. "You mean… You're… I'm… We're…" His head was spinning with emotions, surprise, excitement, anxiety, a bit of fear, but mostly overwhelming joy. He couldn't speak the words he wanted to say, he wanted to hear them aloud, wanted confirmation that he wasn't jumping to conclusions he wanted to believe. "Really?"

Em was thrilled to see his reaction was to be so excited rather than angry as she had feared. "Yes, Jethro. I'm six weeks pregnant. We're having a baby."

Gibbs was ecstatic. Four months ago, no one could have told him he'd ever fall in love again. When he found himself in love with Em, he couldn't let himself believe it could lead to having a family again. He had pushed those desires deep down and refused to let them out. Now he was getting everything he had lost hope life could possibly hold in store for him.


End file.
